


Just A Dream

by panpinecone



Series: Spotlight [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkwardness, Bad Flirting, Blood and Injury, Break Up, Crossdressing, Dancing, Derogatory Language, Eggs, F/M, False Identity, First Meetings, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mirror Sex, Multi, Murder, Oral Sex, Outing, Partner Swapping, Polyamory, Recreational Drug Use, Roleplay, Social Anxiety, Spanking, Spin the Bottle, Stabbing, Touching, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 07:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 51,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18961060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panpinecone/pseuds/panpinecone
Summary: Sam's senior year goes very differently. In no particular order, a collection of alternate timelines.





	1. A Rose By Any Other Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 2, Episode 6](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/41783762).

Sam looked down at the sweet roses and realized he was being offered an opportunity— not in regards to flavor, but in regards to his relationship with Felix.

He could make his interest known. It wouldn’t be an exact reciprocation, but there was no better moment to finally put the charade of disinterest behind them.

Chocolate or cherry?

Neither had ever been particularly appealing to him, but the former was better suited to what he had in mind.

Steeling himself, he reached out and plucked the chocolate rose from Felix’s hand, locking their eyes together as he unwrapped it. Then, with all the resolution he could muster, Sam opened his mouth and stuck the entire rose in.

A few seconds went by.

To his chagrin, he realized the only way forward was to chew. The chocolate rose wasn’t made for sucking like the cherry one was, but the cherry one would’ve taken entirely too long to finish off.

So Sam chewed.

His teeth barely managed to scrape along the solid lump of chocolate, and he found himself forced to admit that he may have miscalculated.

Unfortunate.

He redirected his gaze to Felix, whose eyebrows were drawn in confusion, lips pressed together in a wavering line, face tinged with a faint flush...

A faint flush?

Well, Sam must be doing _something_ right. Probably.

He renewed his efforts, trying his best to chew up the considerably-sized lump of chocolate. After an indeterminate amount of time, the rose’s plastic stem loosened, and with a bit of effort, he was able to pull it from the chocolate, leaving him free to adjust the lump’s position in his mouth.

Felix’s eyes followed the plastic stem, then drifted back to Sam’s face.

“I, uh, thought you weren’t a big fan of chocolate,” he said, features still broadcasting uncertainty.

“I’m not.”

Felix’s only answer was a slow blink, followed by a lick of his lips. Sam continued chewing, maintaining eye contact despite the overwhelming urge to walk away and put an end to the whole fumbled encounter. Instead, the two of them stayed where they were, alone in the empty hall, silently regarding each other.

“Sammy... I hope you know that you’re making this _really_ weird. You know that, right?”

Sam frowned. He was well aware that his plan hadn’t gone quite how he’d envisioned—not that his vision had been fully thought out either—but surely he’d at least gotten his message across?

“Seriously, this has gotta be somewhere near the top of the ‘Weird Shit Sammy’s Done’ list.”

“I’m _trying_ to be—” Sam paused, struggling to find the right word. “Symbolic.”

“Symbolic,” Felix repeated.

“Symbolic,” Sam confirmed.

Felix’s lips pulled up into a strained smile. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but there’s nothing ‘symbolic’ about shoving an entire chocolate rose in your mouth and chewing it up,” he said, indicating the chocolate in question with a nod of his head. “How’s that going, by the way?”

Sam shifted the semi-melted lump into one of his cheeks. “Regrettably.”

Felix’s smile became more pronounced. “Yeah?” he asked, starting to unwrap the cherry rose he still held. “Because to me, it looks like you were going for something more like this.”

His mouth engulfed the cherry rose in one fluid movement, and before Sam could blink, Felix drew off of it, lips dragging over its newly sticky surface. As he reached the tip, Felix turned his head, giving Sam a perfect view of his tongue lapping at the rose, dipping into its molded petal folds.

Sam watched, transfixed, as Felix sank down on it again, lips widening around the rose’s thickest point and staying there. He started working his mouth around the rose, lips steadily growing redder and redder from a combination of the candy and his efforts.

Abruptly, Felix let his mouth fall open, lips loose as he tilted his head back up. He gave the rose one last lick as it left his mouth. “Am I right?” he asked.

“...What?”

Felix barked out a laugh, and though it was at his expense, Sam couldn’t be bothered to care, entirely too preoccupied with the way Felix’s slick lips were pulling and stretching, the red tint highlighting their every movement.

“Earth to Sammy!” Felix chuckled, waving the cherry rose in his direction. “Shit, you really are hopeless, aren’t you?”

Sam snapped out of his daze, only to find himself annoyed by Felix’s assessment. “It’s not my fault I’ve never—” he cut himself off.

Felix raised an eyebrow. “Never what?”

Flirted. Paid attention to flirting. Seen enough porn.

“...Tried new things.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Dude, you don’t need to have sucked a dick to pull that off,” he said, then tensed, as if taken aback by his own words. “I mean, y’know? Everyone knows how that shit works. And lemme tell you, chewing? Not exactly the best approach.”

Sam crossed his arms. In hindsight, it had been a poorly executed plan, for all that it had been a plan at all. Still, he hadn’t known when his next opportunity might arise, so could Felix really blame him for acting so rashly?

“Hey, cheer up,” Felix said, slurping at his cherry rose again. “Important thing’s you tried, even if you”—Felix’s grin was devilish—“ _sucked_ at it. Might wanna put in some more work before you pantomime a blowjob.” He gave his rose a slow, deliberate lick, eyes fixed on Sam’s, then turned on his heel and walked away without so much as a ‘see you’.

It took a minute, but Sam eventually found himself in a state of utter jaw-clenching, heart-pumping horror. He became acutely aware of just how badly his plan could’ve gone. The fact that it _hadn’t_ gone that badly did nothing to ease his nerves, nor did the reality of how badly it _had_ gone.

He supposed he should consider it a success. Felix hadn’t seemed put off by his antics, and had even followed his lead. Regardless, Sam couldn’t bring himself to enjoy the display for what it was, too caught up in a wave of existentialism akin to the kind experienced after a narrow escape from certain death.

But that didn’t matter.

He was sure the enjoyment would come to him at some point, ideally when he had the time and privacy to fully immerse himself in it.


	2. The Other Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Finale](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/42649283).

Reluctantly, Sam blinked awake.

“What time is it?” he forced out, peering up at Felix’s silhouette.

“Doesn’t matter. We have until tomorrow, remember?”

Sam gave a noncommittal noise and stretched in place, getting a better look at Felix and realizing he hadn’t spent his waking hours idly.

“...You changed back,” Sam observed, blinking up at Felix’s feminine self.

“Yep.”

Felix switched on the bedside lamp and Sam squinted.

“Get up,” Felix ordered. “I want you to follow through on what you said.”

Sam had a moment of confusion before Felix saved him some time and effort by elaborating.

“I want you to fuck me like this. Hell, we’ll do it in front of a mirror to keep you happy.”

Sam swallowed, eyes running over Felix and taking in more details in the new lighting. “You have a different dress.”

“Hmm? Yeah, I figured it was about time I had my own. Can’t keep borrowing them forever,” Felix replied, tugging at its hem.

For all that Sam didn’t know about clothing, he could recognize that it was a nice dress— similar to the one Felix had borrowed from Megan, but not of a sort worn at school. The sleeves were small and hung below Felix’s bare shoulders, leaving his apparent bra straps visible, and the rest of the dress was well-fitted to his frame, accentuating what few curves he had, both natural and otherwise. As for the length, Sam couldn’t be certain, but he’d be surprised if it was any longer than Megan’s had been.

“Enjoying the view?” Felix asked, wig’s hair swaying as he tilted his head to the side, quirking his painted lips.

Deciding the assessment wasn’t inaccurate, Sam hummed affirmatively.

Felix’s eyes shone.

“Good. Now go wake yourself up, I’ve waited long enough.”

 

* * *

 

Sam returned from the bathroom to find the bedroom’s main light turned on, but no Felix to be found. Curious, he stood there and glanced around.

No Felix at all.

Just as Sam started contemplating whether he might be in his disaster of a closet, a muffled dragging noise caught his attention, followed by Felix’s return, full-length mirror in tow. Sam looked on as Felix positioned it to his satisfaction, then placed a chair some distance away.

“Alright, come sit so I can adjust this.”

Sam went.

“Hmm. Maybe...” Felix slid onto his lap, facing the mirror and bracketing Sam’s legs with his own. “Looks about right, I think.”

Sam took in their reflection.

On the surface, they looked like any of the couples he saw at school, the kind that walked hand-in-hand through the halls. He thought it made for an interesting image. He also thought he caught a flash of lilac as Felix stood up.

“Okay,” Felix declared, clapping his hands together. “You ready?”

Sam nodded.

Felix’s only answer was to turn on his heel and walk back to the bed. He reached down and rummaged through the sheets for a few seconds. “A-ha!” he suddenly exclaimed, brandishing his tube of gel. “You can hold onto—”

He glanced towards Sam and cut himself off with a frown.

“What is it?” Sam asked.

“Well, as much as I can appreciate you already being naked, it’s not really helpful as far as pockets go.”

“...Oh.”

Felix made his way closer, still frowning, until he stood in front of Sam, blocking his view of the mirror. He eyes were narrowed in consideration.

Sam waited.

Apparently coming to a decision, Felix held out the gel and said, “Whatever, here. Let’s just get right into it.”

Sam took the offered gel and uncapped it, looking at Felix for further instruction.

“C’mon, you can’t have forgotten already. Get it on your dick. _Cock_ , sorry.”

Sam rolled his eyes but chose to leave the word uncommented on. Instead, he asked, “What about you? Don’t you need some too? Or... Being prepared?”

Felix let out an exasperated laugh. “Sammy, I’m not sure my ass will ever be the same again, okay? Now get your damn cock ready.”

Well, if Felix insisted.

Sam squeezed out a generous helping of gel and spread it over himself, then looked back up at Felix for approval.

Felix was still frowning.

“What?” Sam asked.

“It’s so...” Felix made a vague motion towards Sam’s lower half. “Can’t you jerk off a little, get yourself hard?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“What, are you really big on foreplay or something?”

“You’re not hard either,” Sam pointed out.

“Who would be? You’re not exactly making this sexy, Sammy. Besides, even if I was, it wouldn’t show all that easy,” Felix said, tugging up the hem of his dress.

Sam had seen right: Felix was wearing the lilac panties he’d once mentioned, and true to his words back then, they didn’t do a very good job of containing his attributes. Sam wondered how they’d looked the day Felix wore them to school.

He wondered how they’d look when Felix was aroused.

“...Wanna touch?” Felix’s voice came, barely audible through the haze of Sam’s thoughts.

He nodded.

Felix stepped closer, still holding up his dress, and stopped right between Sam’s knees. “Go on, then,” he murmured. “Touch.”

Sam hesitantly placed a hand on Felix’s thigh. It was the one he’d used to spread the gel, but Felix didn’t seem to mind.

Slowly, Sam slid the hand upwards, stopping at Felix’s hip, where the panties covered his skin. Sam fingered along their edge. They were tight against Felix— not terribly so, but tighter than Sam had expected. He smoothed his fingers over them, feeling the cloth.

Felix already seemed more aroused, lightly straining against the lilac barrier. Sam extended a single finger and lightly stroked him. He thought he felt a twitch.

Sam moved his hand down, back to Felix’s thighs, and slid it between them. He trailed his fingers upwards, stopping as he reached the panties again, then turned his hand and cupped Felix, hearing a change in his breathing. A moment later, he removed his hand, leaving Felix leaking against the lilac, staining it darker.

“ _Sammy_...”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the stain. Felix’s fingers threaded through his hair and Sam gave a small lick. The fingers clenched.

“Sam, _fuck_ , please...”

He didn’t know what Felix wanted, but felt reasonably sure that asking him outright wouldn’t be well-received.

Sam tongued at Felix’s hardness through the cloth.

Felix abruptly pulled away and whirled around, pulling the panties down and the dress up. “ _Fuck me_ ,” he said as he lowered himself into Sam’s lap, blindly reaching back and grasping at him. “Get it in, _get it in_.”

Sam scrambled to help, wrapping an arm around Felix and positioning his erection. When heat engulfed its tip, he drew Felix closer as Felix pushed himself backwards, and together, they succeeded in fully penetrating him for the second time ever.

A few minutes passed with only their breathing to fill the air. Sam rested his forehead against Felix’s shoulder, both arms holding him in place. He felt Felix’s lithe fingers scrabbling at them, followed by the tube of gel getting pried out of one of Sam’s hands.

He’d forgotten he was still holding it.

Rather than comment on the blunder, Felix said nothing at all, merely settling in Sam’s lap and breathing deep. They sat there, wrapped around each other, and Sam wasn’t sure how much time passed before Felix started squirming. Curious, Sam lifted his head and set his eyes on the mirror.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m trying to sit better but these panties won’t let me,” Felix huffed, tugging them down to his knees. “Let me go a second. Don’t let me fall though!”

Sam adjusted his grip until Felix could lean over and pull the panties off one leg. Interestingly, he pulled them right back up the other leg, and as he widened the spread of his thighs for better footing, he carefully positioned the panties with his eyes on the mirror.

“Ooh, that’s not a bad color on you,” he cooed, draping them across his thigh and over Sam’s.

“They wouldn’t fit me.”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about wearing them.”

Sam knew better than to argue. “Satisfied?” he asked instead, gazing at them in the mirror.

“Almost.”

Felix gathered his wig’s hair and pulled it over a shoulder, smoothed out his dress and tugged the hem down, then wiggled around a bit.

“Okay, go.”

The first thrust was a struggle. Sam wasn’t sure how to do it. While Felix may not have been too heavy for him to lift under normal circumstances, Sam couldn’t manage much more than a stilted jerk in their current ones.

“Are you even trying?” Felix asked.

“I don’t have enough leverage.”

“I’m not that heavy.”

“.....”

“I can practically hear you making a bitchy comment.”

“Says the dead weight in my lap.”

Felix inhaled through his teeth. “Yep, that was bitchy. But fine,” he said, leaning forward again.

Sam slightly loosened his grip and felt Felix’s hands settle on his knees. After some more wiggling, Felix seemed to get into his preferred position, and gave a roll of his hips.

It felt good. Not the way thrusting into him had, but good.

Or maybe it just looked good. It was hard to tell the difference.

Felix gradually picked up force and speed, using his legs to push himself up before dropping back down, rolling his hips as he went. Sam tried watching the mirror, but Felix’s frantic movements made the task exceedingly difficult, so he lowered his gaze instead.

He’d seen himself disappearing into Felix before, but not nearly enough for the sight to lose its novelty. Combined with the sensation of Felix’s insides, the whole experience had Sam feeling distinctly aroused.

Above him, Felix was bouncing and jerking as he relentlessly took his pleasure from Sam’s body, and Sam was content to let him do so.

“Felix...”

Immediately, Felix stilled, hanging his head with a disgruntled sigh. “ _What_.”

There was a pause as Sam tried to make sense of what had happened.

“ _What?”_ Felix asked again, glaring at Sam over his shoulder.

“...Did I do something wrong?”

“ _No_ , just—”

Sam fought back the impulse to nuzzle Felix’s shoulder as he waited.

“Let’s ditch the chair,” Felix finally said. “My legs are getting tired.”

And so saying, he pulled himself from Sam’s lap, stumbled a bit, and lowered himself to the floor.

“Get down here.”

Sam obediently slid off the chair and knelt, only for Felix to reach out and pull him closer.

“I think this’ll work, don’t you?” Felix asked, turning towards the mirror and leaning forward on his hands. “Look over there, nice view for you and everything.”

Sam scooted closer and hiked Felix’s dress back up again, newly exposing his backside. As if in answer, Felix pushed towards him, lightly bumping against his erection.

“Hurry up.”

So Sam did.

He reentered Felix and began to thrust, gripping him tight and watching the mirror. To his surprise, Felix seemed equally interested in it, if not more so. His mouth hung open and his eyes were unblinking, every one of Sam’s thrusts pushing a soft moan out of him. His wig was steadily losing its styling, growing messier by the minute, and Sam had a feeling that if Felix had breasts, they’d long ago have escaped the confines of his dress.

“Felix...”

The change was instantaneous. Felix’s features snapped back into place, then broadcasted sheer frustration before he dropped his head again.

“ _What!?”_

Sam stilled.

“No, keep going, don’t stop—”

“What am I doing wrong?”

“You’re not— Nothing’s wrong, just keep going.”

Sam pulled out and sat back.

“ _Sam!”_

Felix whirled around, looking utterly distraught, but Sam refused to continue until an explanation was forthcoming.

“I’m frustrating you. Why?”

Felix gritted his teeth. “What, you mean aside from leaving me with blue balls?”

“You were frustrated before that.”

Not too long ago, Felix’s glare would’ve given Sam pause. It still did, but not enough to look away.

The seconds ticked by and their stalemate continued.

“...If I tell you, will you finally shut up and fuck me?”

“Of course.”

Felix rolled his eyes and accommodated himself, apparently reluctant to sit directly on the floor. He leaned on his hip and adjusted his legs to the side. The panties still hung off one of them. “You keep interrupting everything,” he said. “So stop that.”

Sam tilted his head.

Felix set his jaw and crossed his arms. He nearly lost his balance in the process, but regained it after some wobbling. One of his eyebrows went up, clearly daring Sam to acknowledge his fumble.

Sam declined the opportunity. “Would you prefer me to be quiet again?” he asked. “Would you prefer me to always be quiet?”

“No! But...” Felix worked his jaw, nails digging into his arms.

Sam waited.

“Just... Stop saying my name.”

“...What?”

Felix shrugged, eyes darting to Sam and away. “It doesn’t exactly fit this look, y’know?”

There was a prolonged silence.

Felix opened his mouth again just as Sam asked, “What should I call you?”

They stared at each other.

“...Felicia.”

“Alright.”

Felix shifted in place, gaze avoidant, then unceremoniously flipped over and returned to his earlier position.

Sam frowned, taking in the sight before him.

“ _Sam_. You said you’d fuck me, so fuck me.”

“I will,” Sam said, shuffling closer and lightly pushing at Felix’s backside. “But I’d like to try something. Move closer to the mirror.”

He felt Felix tense beneath his hands, only for a moment.

“Oh? Wow, Sammy, I didn’t think you’d be _that_ into the mirror thing,” Felix grinned back at him.

“I think you’re into it too.”

Felix’s grin froze. Sam maintained their eye contact, and after a pause, Felix looked away and crawled forward. He stopped once he reached the mirror, and Sam stopped behind him.

“Happy now?” Felix asked, meeting Sam’s eyes in their reflection.

“Nearly,” Sam replied, reaching down for the panties and working them back onto Felix’s other leg.

“Wh— What are you doing?”

“You seem to like them,” was all Sam said.

He slid the panties up to Felix’s knees and Felix shifted his weight. With a tug, the panties were halfway up his thighs.

“I can’t really spread my legs with those there though.”

“It’s fine,” Sam said. “Lean forward?”

“What, like...?”

Felix leaned towards the mirror and Sam shook his head.

“No, down.”

“Ah. Face down, ass up, huh? I’d be offended if you weren’t giving me ideas.”

Felix lowered himself and Sam briefly contemplated the future possibility of their roles being reversed. He allowed himself a furtive smile, then pushed back into Felix’s heat.

“Fucking _finally_ ,” Felix groaned, only to make a questioning noise as Sam pulled at his arms. “Sammy?”

“Up.”

Felix continued looking confused as Sam got him fully upright. While it was true that the panties hindered Felix’s ability to keep his balance, Sam’s hold kept him steady, and little by little, he brought Felix to rest against his chest.

Sam looked at their reflection and felt a sense of accomplishment, not just because the two of them presented an enticing image, but because of the effect said image was currently having on Felix: His eyes flitted over the mirror’s surface, jumping from place to place, as if taking in every last detail, then finally landed on the panties stretched between his thighs. After a pause, he dragged his eyes back up to Sam’s and let out a nearly inaudible whimper.

Sam gave a shallow thrust.

Felix whimpered again.

It felt strange, but Sam wrapped his mouth around the name and said it.

“Felicia.”

Sam wasn’t certain how he’d classify the noise Felix made, but it was encouraging, so he began thrusting in earnest. Felix pushed back to meet his thrusts and Sam held him steady, nuzzling his hair before abruptly remembering it was a wig. He kept nuzzling it anyway. Felix probably appreciated the imagery, after all.

“ _S- Sam_...”

It was breathy, as if Felix hadn’t meant for him to hear, but was accompanied by a squeeze of his arms. Sam met his eyes in the mirror.

“... _The name_...”

Oh.

Sam had evidently underestimated the effect it had on Felix, though he felt no closer to understanding what exactly that effect was.

He could find out later. Right now, the important thing was pleasing Felix.

“Felicia,” Sam repeated.

Felix squirmed in his grip.

“ _Felicia_ ,” Sam said again, accompanying the name with a harder thrust.

Felix clutched at his arms tighter and continued staring at their reflection.

Sam slid a hand down to touch Felix, and nearly pulled up his dress before thinking better of it. If his suspicions were right...

He cupped Felix over the dress.

“Ah...!”

It took Sam a few seconds to realize he’d brought Felix to orgasm. The only indication was the rhythmic clenching around him, and then the wetness of the cloth beneath his hand.

“Felicia...?” he tried one more time.

Felix gave a final shudder in his grip and went limp. Sam faltered, unsure how to continue.

“Keep going,” Felix mumbled, his eyes falling closed. “However you want.”

Sam got the impression he was being offered a rare opportunity, but all he could focus on was the growing ache of his muscles. Carefully, he pulled out, lowered Felix completely to the floor, and entered him again.

“Wow, Sammy,” Felix laughed. “Should I feel degraded?”

“I was tired.”

“Yeah, but face down?”

“You’d need to open your legs if I flipped you over, and you’ve got the panties on.”

“You could take them off.”

“Do you want me to?”

“.....”

Sam took Felix’s silence as a negative, and turned his attention to the task at hand. Namely, achieving an orgasm of his own. Despite knowing Felix could handle his weight for a few minutes, he accommodated himself to spare him the brunt of it and began to thrust once more.

“You know, I bet we look great,” Felix huffed beneath him. “Imagine someone walking in on us.”

Sam immediately froze and eyed the hallway beyond the open door.

“Dude! I didn’t say to stop! Sheesh, we’re never gonna finish at this rate.”

Sam gradually started rocking into Felix again.

“That’s better. Now hurry up and come.”

“It’s not that easy,” Sam grunted.

Felix slightly lifted his head. “What, like your foreplay thing? I mean, you’re already fucking me, so I’m not really sure what else to do.”

Sam wasn’t sure himself, but Felix’s line of questioning certainly wasn’t helping. “I’ll manage,” he growled.

“Mm, sure you will. In the meantime, just go ahead and lay on me. I’m not gonna break because I’m in a dress.”

“No, but you’re smaller than me.”

“So? Fucking lay on me.”

Sam resolutely didn’t.

“Do it, Sammy.”

Sam did it.

Being free to focus solely on the movement of his hips was a welcome change, and he soon felt himself nearing his climax.

“Sammy...”

Sam didn’t divert his focus.

“What turns you on?” Felix asked.

“I don’t know,” Sam automatically answered.

Felix hummed noncommittally. “Well, there’s the Peeping Tom thing, the taking orders thing, the compliments thing... Probably more.”

Sam gathered the last of his energy and sped up.

“ _Ohh_. That’s nice,” Felix commented, flexing his fingers. “Doesn’t answer my question though. I wanna get you off, so tell me how.”

“ _I don’t know_.”

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. You’re so weird.”

At this rate, Sam was going to have a completely unsatisfying orgasm. He was no stranger to that, but he’d been hoping those days were past, especially with Felix at his side. Or under him, as the case may be.

“That’s okay though,” Felix sighed. “We’ll figure it out.”

Sam couldn’t say what it was. The familiarity? The casual tone? The contrast between him fucking Felix into the floor and Felix offhandedly mentioning their future? Sam had no idea, but his orgasm hit and it was all he could do to grab at Felix’s arms and thrust with the last of his strength.

Eventually, he slumped, breath heavy. His body conveniently reminded him that Felix had woken him up for this, and he suddenly felt more tired than he could ever remember feeling.

Beneath him, Felix said nothing.

Sam allowed himself a few minutes of respite, then weakly pushed himself up and sat back. He looked down at Felix.

“Are you alright?”

Felix gave a stilted nod, tensed, then gingerly pushed himself onto his side, massaging at his ribs.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Felix gritted out. “It’s fine.”

Sam frowned.

“Seriously, relax. The real pain’s gonna be putting all this stuff away,” Felix said, indicating his rumpled outfit.

“Hmm.”

They regarded each other in silence.

“Sammy...”

Sam waited.

“...That wasn’t too weird, right? I mean, you’re weird too, so. But it wasn’t. Was it?”

Felix’s brow was furrowed, and Sam distantly noted that his makeup had held up remarkably well.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“No, I mean—” Felix’s tone had changed to one of frustration, but his expression was more akin to worry. He seemed to be calculating his next words.

Sam decided to hazard a guess and asked, “Are you worried I’ll think differently of you?”

Slowly, deliberately, Felix nodded, eyes fixed on his.

“I see you exactly as I did before, only clearer now.”

“Don’t— ‘Clearer’?” Felix asked, eyebrows tilting in indignation. “Don’t come at me with that. None of this _means_ anything, okay? So what if I want my homemade porn to have a chick in it? I’m not about to watch myself ride your dick as a guy. Like, don’t you think I look hot this way?”

The pause afforded Sam the opportunity to make his first objection. “I didn’t say it meant anything—”

“Good! Because it doesn’t. So what if I wanna look like someone else?”

Sam tilted his head as Felix sat up and pulled off his panties.

“Whatever,” Felix muttered, hobbling to his feet and heading for the bathroom.

There had never been much of a question as to whether Felix had a hidden side, but Sam still found himself surprised each time more of it was revealed. He didn’t think he was anywhere near deciphering the latest glimpse of it, and though he had a few suspicions, they all somehow rang false.

Maybe Felix would explain it one day. Maybe he wouldn’t.

Either way, Sam doubted Felix would ever be too weird for him.


	3. It's High Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 2, Episode 15](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/42330389).

Felix ground his jaw again, and after a few seconds, huffed, “Fine. _Whatever_.”

The television was still on, a new show starting, but Sam kept his eyes on Felix, feeling as though they’d narrowly avoided their discussion taking a turn for the worse. As he watched, Felix pulled out what looked like a crumpled cigarette and a lighter, the former of which he placed between his lips before flicking on the latter.

“What is that?” Sam asked.

Felix took a few puffs, exhaling smoke into the air. It smelled unlike anything Sam knew of.

“Why, want a hit?”

Suddenly, Sam understood.

“You can’t do that!” he protested. “You need to drive back home!”

Felix smirked. “Whoops. Guess I’ll just have to stay the night.”

Sam tried to school his face into the most disapproving expression he could manage. Judging by Felix’s widening smirk, he hadn’t been very successful.

“C’mon, man. If you’re that worried about your parents coming back tomorrow, I’ll just wake up and leave super early,” Felix said, taking another puff. “Yeah, it’ll be a pain, but I’ve done it before. Or you could just tell them we’re boyfriends now. Oh, wait, that’d probably make it worse that you secretly invited me over, wouldn’t it? Don’t tell them that, then.”

“ _Felix_.”

“Relax! Here, this’ll help.”

Felix shuffled across the couch to Sam’s side, took another puff, then leaned in and kissed him. Confused, but not particularly opposed, Sam parted his lips, then grew even more confused at the sensation that ensued.

“Is that—?” he cut himself off, smoke caught in his throat. He regretted having already finished his tea, but eventually cleared his throat all the same. Glaring at Felix, he coughed, “Getting me high won’t change my mind.”

He wasn’t entirely sure if he was referring to Felix spending the night or to them formally becoming boyfriends, but decided it didn’t matter. Felix was free to interpret the statement as he wished.

“Hey, don’t knock it ’til you try it.”

Or not interpret it at all, judging by his newfound tactic of holding the cigarette up to Sam’s lips.

No, ‘cigarette’ wasn’t the right term, was it? Sam had heard several, but wasn’t certain which applied. Perhaps they were all the same? He didn’t suppose asking Felix would yield the most accurate of results...

“I don’t mean to peer pressure you, Sammy, but seriously. Live a little!”

Sam said nothing.

Felix shrugged. “Or don’t. Your loss,” he said, pulling his hand back.

“...Wait.”

Felix’s grin was triumphant.

 

* * *

 

How Sam ended up telling Felix about the _Sailor Moon_ musicals, playing one in his living room, and dancing along to a song was a complete and utter mystery.

At least he knew the choreography. He couldn’t imagine how silly he’d look otherwise.

Unfortunately, Felix didn’t seem to appreciate his efforts, and had been lost to a fit of laughter from the moment Sam first wiggled in place. Felix’s laughter had only grown louder and louder as the song continued, culminating in a shriek when Sam briefly waved his arms in the air.

“I am _so_ glad we already jerked off, because Sammy? I’m not sure I’m ever gonna be able to fuck you after this,” Felix wheezed, wiping at his eyes. “ _Holy shit_ , I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard, even high.”

Sam frowned. Alright, he didn’t have the choreography _completely_ memorized, but he can’t have done _that_ bad of a job.

“Show me a dance you know,” he prompted.

Felix stared at him.

Sam stared back.

“Like... A specific dance from a thing?” Felix asked. “I haven’t really been in that many musicals, dude, and I don’t make a point of remembering the dances after they’re over and done with.”

“So you don’t know any dances.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Felix pulled himself off the couch and waved Sam onto it instead, claiming the spot in the middle of the living room. After taking a deep breath, he began some rudimentary stretches: Arms, back, and legs, with fingers and neck thrown in for good measure.

“Hmm. Close your eyes for a minute, would you?”

Sam did so.

“Here goes... Ah, fuck. Okay, we’re good. Other side... Phew, that should do it. Right, eyes open?”

Sam took in the sight of Felix giving himself one final shake.

“So it’s like this.”

Felix proceeded to go through a series of motions that Sam supposed qualified as a dance, insofar as a dance was defined as a series of motions. Maybe it was better with music. Still, the speed with which Felix moved from position to position was admirable, as well as the heights his legs reached with each kick. Some of the motions struck Sam as oddly familiar, though he couldn’t imagine why.

It wasn’t until Felix neared the end of his dance that he did something truly remarkable, however. Before Sam’s eyes, he smoothly pushed back his hind leg, and then, within seconds, had completely lowered himself to the floor in a perfect front split.

Sam blinked.

“Not bad, huh?” Felix asked, grinning up at him.

Sam tilted his head, analyzing Felix’s position on the floor.

“Like what you see?”

“How long did you practice?” Sam asked, wondering if Felix’s apparent flexibility came to him naturally.

Felix pursed his lips in consideration and carefully switched his legs’ positions before lowering himself to the floor again. “I dunno, couple months? Not nearly as hard as people make it out to be.”

“I could never,” mused Sam.

Felix’s eyes seemed to glaze over.

Sam made an inquisitive noise.

“Huh? Oh, uh, nothing. Have you ever tried it?” Felix asked as he eased out of the split and crossed his legs.

“Doing a split? No.”

“Then how can you know? C’mon, don’t be a quitter, Sammy. Get over here.”

Sam did so, mirroring Felix’s cross-legged position on the floor. His mind cast itself back to the last time they’d sat cross-legged together, on Sam’s bed, before their first kiss. He forced the memory aside.

“Just how flexible are you?” Felix asked.

“How is flexibility measured?” Sam asked in turn, remembering the examinations that physical education had them undergo.

Felix crossed his arms, gaze assessing. Sam patiently awaited his verdict.

“Alright, let’s start with the basics.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam's dance is ['La Soldier' from _Sailor Moon_.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93oucZyWwHg)  
> Felix's dance is ['Bing Bang' from _LazyTown_.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QCLqOdYiQws)


	4. A New Spin On It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Hiatus, Part 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/41447837).

“Sammy, get over here! Let loose a little!”

“I would prefer not to,” Sam replied, even as he lifted himself up and cautiously approached the forming circle.

Felix’s grin widened with every step Sam took, until it was no longer physically possible for it to continue doing so without the help of some external means. Sam sat down and eyed him warily.

“Okay,” Megan said, looking around at the group. “Everybody ready?”

 

* * *

 

Sam uncomfortably watched the game play out, turn after turn, dreading the possibility of having the bottle point towards him.

The reality of what he’d entered into hadn’t fully struck him until the game began, but somehow, he didn’t think the potential experience would be so bad. Everyone seemed considerate enough, and the few deeper kisses he’d witnessed had only ever involved two enthusiastic participants.

All that aside, the possibility of having his first kiss during a party game wasn’t particularly appealing.

Maybe he could leave before having a turn...

One of Megan’s friends finished kissing Mason, freeing him to give the bottle a spin. Little by little, it slowed and slowed, then finally stopped.

Sam swallowed. It was time.

He barely heard the surrounding commentary, the jokes about continuing last week’s improv scene, or Felix’s answering, “That fucking scene...”

Sam only stared at Mason, and Mason stared back, and Mason got closer, and—

It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been.

With his heart thumping wildly in his chest, Sam reached for the bottle with shaking fingers, fumbled a bit, then spun it.

A few seconds passed.

It belatedly occurred to him that he’d have to kiss someone else.

He wasn’t certain he could handle that, but before he could extricate himself from the game, the bottle stopped, pointing right at Megan.

Sam glanced between her and Mason.

“Now _there’s_ a threesome,” contributed Felix, prompting a chorus of laughter and a swat from Megan.

“C’mon, Sam,” she said, leaning forward and crooking a finger at him. “Don’t let Mason have all the fun.”

Sam _really_ wasn’t certain he could handle two kisses during a party game. Still, he slowly brought his face to hers, had a moment of panic that he was taking too long, then felt her close the distance between them.

With that, his turn was finally over and he breathed a sigh of relief, scooting back into place. He spotted Megan giving Mason a wink.

She spun the bottle.

Sam watched it, his mind full of static, distantly aware of how simple it would be to leave the game now that he'd had a turn.

The bottle pointed at Felix.

“About time!” he crowed, grin nearly as wide as it had been earlier. He shot a mildly repentant look Mason’s way before tipping Megan’s chin closer and pressing their lips together.

It was the first time Sam had seen him kiss anyone, and not at all how he would’ve imagined it.

Felix’s mouth was insistent against Megan’s, his lips opening and slipping between hers. Sam glimpsed a tongue, but wasn’t sure whose it was.

The bottle was spinning again.

Right, time to leave—

“Oho, _Sammy!”_

No, no, no. That was a whole other turn, and probably another after that, and soon enough, Sam may have kissed half his drama peers, and that just wouldn’t do.

Felix was looking at him expectantly.

“...I was just about to leave,” said Sam, standing up and feeling the entire room’s eyes on him.

“What, why?” Felix asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sam froze. “Bathroom,” he settled on, looking towards Megan. “Upstairs, right?”

She nodded and said, “Down the hall.”

“Thank you,” Sam replied.

Then he left.

 

* * *

 

“Most people go _inside_ the bathroom, you know,” came Felix’s voice, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Sam said nothing.

Felix rolled his eyes. “Unless you want a lot of weird looks, you better go somewhere else. The game’s over and I’m sure other people are gonna want the bathroom.”

Sam considered that, then asked, “Go where?”

“You’re such a mess,” Felix said, taking Sam by the arm and leading him away. “I’m thirsty. Want a drink?”

“...Yes.”

“Kitchen it is, then.”

Sam stayed quiet and let Felix bring them to the kitchen. Over the next few minutes, he prepared their drinks, grimacing as he poured Sam’s requested water.

He then swallowed down his own drink and asked, “Do you really think kissing me’s that awful?”

Sam frowned. “I’m not used to kissing people in public,” he answered. It wasn’t a lie.

“So what you’re saying is that you’d kiss me in private.”

No, actually, that wasn’t what Sam was saying _at all_ , but before he could point that out, Felix was leaning in and—

.....

Felix pulled back, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Well?” he asked. “Not bad, huh?”

Sam blinked.

Felix’s expression gradually morphed into one of impatience. “ _Well?”_

“I...”

“What, you’d rather kiss Megan and Mason?”

“No, I—”

“ _What!?”_

Sam took a deep breath, then another. His eyes ran over Felix, taking in the tilt of his eyebrows and the clench of his jaw. It was clear he was upset and only growing more so, but Sam...

“I’m sorry.”

Felix didn’t seem appeased, gnashing his teeth and narrowing his eyes. “Sorry for what, _rejecting_ me? Dude, it’s a fucking game, I don’t care!” He took a step back and opened the refrigerator.

His next words were muffled, but Sam heard them anyway.

“Get _over_ yourself. Pshhh, like I’d actually be interested.”

Sam left the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before Felix walked up to his car.

Sam braced himself for more barbed comments, but none came. Felix’s face remained impassive as he unlocked the doors and plopped into the driver’s seat, and after a moment’s deliberation, Sam settled in beside him.

Neither of them spoke as they left Megan’s neighborhood, and it wasn’t until they were waiting at a stoplight that Sam chose to do so.

“I wouldn’t mind,” he said, picking his words carefully, “if you were interested.”

Felix took in a sharp breath.

Sam went on, “But a lot happened tonight. I was just trying to make sense of it. That’s all.”

Felix scoffed. “What’s ‘a lot’?”

“The party. The people. The kissing.”

“What, never kissed a guy before?” Felix asked, grin not quite matching his tone.

The stoplight turned green and Felix drove on.

Sam had a brief internal struggle, then decided the situation called for complete honesty. “No. I haven’t kissed anyone before.”

Felix shot him a confused look. “What, like...? Whataya’ mean?”

“Mason was my first kiss.”

Felix said nothing.

Sam watched him in silence.

Felix abruptly pulled into an empty gas station and parked.

“Do you mean to tell me,” he ground out, “that _Mason Wu_ was your first fucking kiss!? Just now!?”

“...Yes?”

“ _What the fuck!?”_ Felix exclaimed, looking utterly frenzied. “But then— How even— _Goddammit_.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, massaged his temples, and ran his hands down his face. Sam continued watching him in silence, wondering if he should’ve put off the discussion until Felix had driven him home.

“Fuck, is this how he felt? No wonder he’s always pissed at me,” Felix muttered, forehead propped against the steering wheel.

Sam made a questioning noise and Felix shook his head.

“Nothing. Just...” he trailed off, turning to peer at Sam from his position. “You’re such a—”

There was a pause.

“Never mind,” said Felix, sitting up and reversing the car. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

“...Did you mean it?”

“Hmm?”

Felix parked in Sam’s driveway before turning towards him and specifying, “About not minding if I were interested.”

Ah. That.

“I did.”

They stared at each other.

“Can I...?”

“You already did.”

Felix licked his lips. “Yeah, I did. Can I do it again?”

Sam nodded.

The kiss was slow and gentle, unlike any he’d had so far. Felix leisurely caressed Sam’s lips with his own, cupping his jaw with a hand, and Sam leaned into it. The whole experience was intimate in a way he hadn’t anticipated, and when Felix broke the kiss, Sam almost followed him.

For a moment, everything was frozen in place, but then Felix was pulling his hand away with a sigh.

“I need to figure out how this is gonna work, okay? See you around, Sammy,” he said, brusquely shifting the car into reverse.

Taken aback, Sam stepped out. As soon as he shut the door, Felix was driving away.

Sam resolved to spend the next week doing some figuring out of his own.


	5. A Run In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 1, Episode 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/40326536).

Somehow, _miraculously_ , Sam’s elective wasn’t drama.

He wasn’t sure how. Perhaps he’d mailed in his elective choice too late and there were no openings left in the class. How drama could possibly be filled to capacity, he had no idea, but it didn’t matter.

The important thing was that he was _free_.

He slipped his schedule into his bag and followed the school map towards his first class of the day.

The year was already off to a good start.

 

* * *

 

Sam went to his classes, paid attention, completed assignments, and spent his free time pursuing his own interests.

His parents seemed disappointed by his lack of social life, but it was hardly his fault if no one tried to befriend him. He didn’t particularly want to be befriended, so it worked out well in his opinion. Maintaining friendships would likely lead to his grades dropping, anyway.

Everything was fine the way it was.

 

* * *

 

As the year went by, Sam started to realize that his options were becoming limited.

Few higher learning institutions accepted applications so late, and though he could apply to some places for the following semester, that would still leave him with entire months of doing nothing with his life. His parents weren’t the type to make a big deal over that, but he personally found the idea of spending months without purpose to be stifling.

He tried his best to ignore the problem and focus on his current academic career.

 

* * *

 

Sam gritted his teeth.

He was running late. It wasn’t his fault, but he didn’t enjoy the thought of walking into the gym after the warm-up routine had already started, regardless of the note he’d been given to excuse his lateness.

As quickly as he could, he made his way across the school. Though his brisk pace wasn’t nearly as efficient as actually running, he didn’t think the benefits of running would outweigh the disadvantages.

He turned a corner and someone toppled over.

Unfortunate.

“Are you alright?” he asked, staring down at the mess he’d caused.

Pamphlets were scattered on the ground, evidently having escaped from the open container atop his victim. She glared up at him, opened her mouth, then paused.

Sam watched her curiously.

She cleared her throat and snapped, “Are you just going to stand there? Help a lady up, why don’t you!?”

Sam frowned but offered her one of his hands, and after a moment, she reached up and took it. He pulled her to her feet, watched her regain her footing, then began sidestepping her.

“What, not even going to apologize?” she asked with a pout.

He ran through his memory of the past minute. She was right; he hadn’t apologized.

“I’m very sorry,” he said, feeling the entire incident brand itself into his collection of memories best forgotten.

The girl rolled her eyes. “The least you can do is pick these up,” she said, gesturing down at the pamphlets. “Or is gym more important than being polite?”

Her words gave Sam pause. Gym? She could only know that if he shared the class with her, but...

He tilted his head.

“What?” she asked.

“Do I know you?”

Her eyes widened. She crossed her arms and looked away. “If you don’t want to help, just say so,” was all she said.

Sam kept staring at her.

“Ugh, _fine_ ,” she huffed, squatting down and starting to gather the pamphlets. “I’ll do it myself.”

Sam guiltily looked towards the gym, then guiltily looked towards the girl. He was already running late, but he’d also already been rude to her. Whether he stayed to help her or headed for the gym, neither situation would be fully remedied.

But he _was_ still curious about her.

He crouched down and began gathering pamphlets.

She faltered halfway through setting a handful of pamphlets into the container but then continued her task, and between the two of them, the work went fast. All the pamphlets were soon returned to their rightful place.

Sam and the girl stood. She silently regarded the container on the floor and he raised an eyebrow.

“I, uh, don’t think I can lift it while keeping my balance,” she said, motioning towards her heels.

“Oh. Here,” he offered, bending over and picking up the container.

Before he could hand it back to her, she spoke again.

“Any chance you can help me carry that? Just to the auditorium.”

“...Alright.”

The walk was awkward, with neither of them saying anything. Sam held the container close and found himself watching the girl’s feet, her heels clicking with every step. He could only imagine how uncomfortable they were to wear.

Eventually, the two of them reached the auditorium. The girl unlocked its doors, then stepped inside and held one open for Sam.

“You can just set that down on one of the front row seats,” she said, pointing towards the seats in question.

Sam obediently walked down the aisle and deposited the container as he’d been instructed. He turned back the way he came.

The girl still stood where he’d seen her last, eyes fixed on him. Sam did his best to ignore her gaze and kept walking.

Just as he was about to pass her, she spoke.

“Hey. Do you really not recognize me?”

Sam stopped and looked at her, really looked.

She looked back at him just as intently.

“No,” he said.

Her lips stretched into a smile. “Really?”

Sam hoped his expression conveyed his confusion.

If her ensuing laugh was anything to go by, it had succeeded.

“Hey,” she said again. “Do I look hot?”

“...What?”

“Hot. Me. Do I?”

Sam didn’t know how to answer that.

“It’s a simple question,” she said, crossing her arms and cocking her hip. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to make you cheat on your girlfriend or anything. I just want to know.”

Luckily, that hadn’t been a concern of Sam’s, though he briefly felt an echo of the despair he would be in if it had been. “No,” he finally said. “But I don’t know how to answer that.”

“With the truth.”

Sam considered that. He supposed she did look attractive, in a certain sense of the word. There was nothing glaringly wrong with her appearance, and despite offering little in the way of curves, he knew there were people who had no particular preference for them.

“You’re not ugly,” he said.

“...Gee, thanks.”

Her dry, sarcastic tone was probably one of the better outcomes he could’ve expected, but he still grimaced.

“I mean that nothing about your appearance displeases me,” he clarified.

She quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? And does any of it _please_ you?”

Sam nearly gave the question some serious thought before remembering that he still had a class to get to.

“I have to go.”

“Aww, come on, don’t be like that,” the girl whined. “Say one thing you like about me. Just one.”

Sam eyed the auditorium doors, wondering how quickly he could reach them if he ran.

The girl cleared her throat, regaining his attention.

He frowned and thought about her question.

She impatiently tapped one of her heels against the floor. He noted that she had to lift her calf to do so.

“Well?” she asked.

“...You’re interesting,” he settled on.

She stopped tapping her heel and asked, “How?”

“I feel like I know you.”

“You might.”

Sam squinted at her.

She smiled pleasantly.

“Do I?”

“I’m Felicia.”

He didn’t know any Felicias, but he didn’t know the names of most of his peers either, so the information was useless.

“I’m Sam.”

“I know.”

He crossed his arms. “Are you in my gym class?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

That was maddeningly unhelpful, but Sam’s frustration was held at bay by the shine in Felicia’s eyes. Her smile made it obvious that he was missing something, but as much as his curiosity vexed him, he couldn’t spend the rest of the school day in the auditorium.

“I have to go,” he repeated.

“You’re already late.”

“Being later is worse.”

An amused breath left Felicia. “Fine, go,” she said, but didn’t sound disappointed to make the concession. “Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime.”

Sam nodded and left the auditorium.

He made a mental note to look for Felicia at next week’s gym class.


	6. Gone Sideways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 2, Episode 3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/41665481).

All of a sudden, Felix’s hands stopped.

Sam held his breath.

They were just _there_ , resting on his torso, not quite pressing him back into Felix. Their stillness was nearly as bad as their motion had been. Like this, their warmth had time to settle against Sam’s shirt and go through it, creating two heated spots on his skin.

He felt sufficiently hot already; he didn’t need any additional heat.

The hands slid down to Sam’s hips, startling a gasp out of him. Without a moment’s pause, one of them moved right onto his crotch and squeezed.

“F- Felix...?”

“ _Shh_. Just relax. I don’t do this for anyone, y’know.”

Sam didn’t think he’d truly relax ever again, but it was easy to close his eyes and let himself sag in Felix’s arms.

The script they’d been reading fell to the floor, but it was the sound of his pants being unzipped that had Sam’s eyes flying back open.

“Felix—”

“Hmm? You don’t want it?” Felix murmured into Sam’s ear, tracing dangerously close to the bulge in his underwear. “It’s not like you’re seeing anyone. If I were you, I’d be jumping at the chance for a handjob.” His fingers hesitated before continuing their tracing. “Well, maybe not a handjob. I can do way better than that. But _you_ can’t.”

Sam squirmed listlessly. He’d known Felix would continue pushing at his boundaries, continue evolving their relationship, but he never could’ve predicted such a steep escalation.

His hips gave an involuntary jerk.

“ _Well, then_ ,” came Felix’s voice, a triumphant whisper. He slipped his fingers beneath Sam’s underwear, running them along the crease where hip met leg. “You definitely _seem_ to want it.”

Sam said nothing. He didn’t know what to say, and even if he did, he wasn’t sure he could get his mouth back up to speaking standards. Instead, he only pressed back into Felix and rolled his hips again.

“Mm, would you look at that? Little Sammy’s getting excited,” Felix said, pushing down Sam’s underwear and leaving him exposed.

“ _Felix_...”

“Mhmm?”

“W- Why are you doing this?”

“What, a guy can’t just give his friend a helping hand?”

Sam fisted the bedspread and asked, “Is that what friends do?”

“Sometimes,” Felix replied. “If they’re good enough friends, obviously.”

“Like we are?”

“Yeah.”

Sam squirmed again, aching for more contact but reluctant to ask for it. He needed to know what it all meant to Felix first. Why, he wasn’t sure, but it seemed like important information.

“Why are you really doing this?” he asked.

“I told you, it’s a favor between friends. Sheesh, it’s called not looking a gift horse in the mouth, ever heard of it?”

Sam grabbed Felix’s wrist before those lithe fingers could come into contact with his erection. He hated himself for it, but knew it was his final chance to get a straight answer.

“Like... Friends with benefits?”

Felix flexed his fingers. “If you wanna call it that.”

“What would _you_ call it?”

Felix flexed his fingers more insistently. “Do you want me to jerk you off or not, Sammy?”

“Do you want to?”

Silence fell over the room as Felix tensed. His wrist strained against Sam’s grip, to no avail.

Sam needed an answer to _that_ , at least.

Felix’s other hand suddenly lunged forward and wrapped itself around Sam’s testicles, making him jump.

“ _Let me go_ ,” Felix hissed, the unspoken threat plain to hear.

Sam highly doubted that Felix would follow through on such a threat, but he wasn’t altogether willing to risk the matter either. The few times he’d endured the pain of something hitting his crotch were more than enough to loosen his hold, and Felix instantly pulled his newly freed hand away.

He kept his other hand on Sam’s testicles.

“You’re still pretty hard for having your balls at my mercy,” Felix commented, rubbing his thumb across one of them. “‘Balls of steel,’ I’d say, only we both know that’s not quite true. Especially not right now.”

He punctuated his words with a gentle squeeze that had Sam squirming again. It wasn’t painful— in fact, it bordered on pleasurable. The problem lay in how simple it would be for Felix to tighten his hold, just as Sam had done with his wrist.

Felix chuckled softly, thumb still rubbing. “Nervous?”

“I thought you wanted to give me a... A handjob.”

“Ah-ah-ah, I never said anything about wanting to,” Felix refuted.

Just as the unspoken threat had been plain to hear, so was the unspoken truth.

Sam decided to take his chances.

“I want you to.”

The grip on his testicles loosened slightly, fingers running over the sensitive skin.

“You want me to give you a handjob?” Felix asked, his free hand snaking back around to Sam’s crotch.

“I want you to want to.”

Felix faltered, tensing again, then gave a stilted thrust against Sam’s lower back.

The next moment, he was pulling away, but Sam didn’t have time to feel disappointed. Without warning, Felix had pushed him onto his back and began positioning him on the bed. Sam let Felix manhandle him as he pleased, until at last he found himself on his side, with Felix nestled behind him.

His pants and underwear had ridden up during the repositioning, and Felix unceremoniously yanked them down again, leaving him even more exposed than before.

There was some rustling, but before Sam could think to look back, arms were wrapping around his sides. Felix’s hands lightly scratched at the fabric of his shirt, as if impatient to tear at it, but settled for pulling it up to his chest. He watched as the hands began exploring his bare torso, fingers dancing along.

Sam barely suppressed a shiver. Of what, he wasn’t sure. Anticipation? Nervousness? Or maybe he was just cold now that his clothes were half-removed.

One hand dipped towards his testicles again, but bypassed them entirely, instead nudging behind. Felix was so insistent that Sam obligingly raised his leg, feeling fingers brush along his center, prodding at the crease there.

Abruptly, Felix pulled his hand away, though not before giving Sam’s leg a squeeze. The message was clear, so Sam kept it raised as the hand retreated, wondering what Felix had in mind.

The answer became no more clear as fingers ran along the curve of Sam’s backside, trailing down between his legs and sliding their way back up towards his front, stopping behind his testicles and lingering.

Sam _really_ had no idea what Felix had in mind, but was content to let the proceedings continue.

Yet again, Felix’s hand pulled away. There was more rustling behind Sam, followed by the sensation of...

Sam watched as the head of Felix’s cock emerged from between his legs, resting against his testicles.

Felix pushed down on his raised leg and Sam obediently lowered it, transfixed by the sight of their most intimate parts squeezed together. Trapping Felix’s cock between his thighs wasn’t something he’d ever imagined himself doing, but when those slender fingers wrapped around him and started stroking, he was rendered incapable of any higher cognitive functions.

The movement of Felix’s grip was perfectly timed, rapidly bringing Sam’s pleasure to its limit, but he was surprised to find that the sensation of Felix’s cock—the drag of it between his thighs—was nearly as enjoyable. Unthinkingly, he angled his hips against Felix’s, hearing the faint smacking their newly positioned bodies now produced.

There was a knock at the door and Felix plastered himself to Sam, grip uncomfortably tight.

“Do you want any snacks?” Sam’s mother asked.

Sam took a moment to catch his breath, then answered her as normally as he could manage.

Felix’s grip grew even tighter.

Sam strained to hear anything over the pounding of his heartbeat until, at last, the telltale fade of her footsteps sent relief washing over him.

“Sammy...”

“Hmm?”

“You answered her in Spanish.”


	7. Cracked Shell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 2, Episode 7](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/41881796).

“...Why do you have an egg?” Sam asked.

“Hmm? Oh, P. E.,” said Megan, as if that made things any less confusing.

Mason gave him a sympathetic look and said to her, “I don’t think Sam knows about that project.”

Megan blinked, halfway to taking a bite of her lunch. “Wait, you don’t?”

Sam shook his head.

“You never had the ‘take care of a fake baby’ thing?”

“The what?”

Megan’s mouth opened but no sound came out. Her eyebrows slowly went up and her lips pulled into a grin. “Oh, you are in for a _treat_ ,” she finally breathed, picking up the egg she’d set on the table.

Over the next several minutes, she turned it over in her hands, explaining what the project in question was. As far as Sam understood, the physical education class had students carry around eggs for a week, proving that they could—or couldn’t, as the case may be—theoretically care for a newborn.

“Each egg’s got this symbol on the bottom, so they’ll know if you bring in a new one,” Megan went on, tapping the symbol in question. “You’re supposed to carry it around the whole school day, but a lot of people just stick them in their lockers until they’ve gotta head to the gym.”

Sam was at a loss for words.

“Hey, be glad they’re not doing the flour sacks anymore. I can’t imagine carrying around one of _those_ the whole day,” Megan said.

 

* * *

 

As they walked to literature, Sam nervously eyed Megan’s egg.

He couldn’t begin to understand how such an endeavor was meant to teach them anything, nor how its logic was meant to hold up. Newborns weren’t even allowed at school.

...Were they?

Sam wasn’t sure, but he doubted the answer would clear up any of his misgivings about the project.

Relegating his eventual egg to his unused locker would probably be for the best.

 

* * *

 

By the time he walked into drama, Mason had an egg too.

It was spreading.

Sam took his seat and tore his eyes from Mason’s egg, only to find his gaze landing on someone else’s.

He glanced around.

That was _far_ too many eggs for a drama classroom.

“Ah, it’s that time of year again, isn’t it?” asked Felix, twirling his marker. “Hope you’re all responsible parents. Now, then! It’s time to learn some improv rules.”

 

* * *

 

“Do they hand out eggs every year?”

Felix huffed out a laugh. “Fuck no, can you imagine? We’d all fail the class,” he said. “It’s just the juniors and seniors. Guess they think those are the only ones fucking.”

Sam considered that.

“But what they don’t know won’t hurt ’em,” Felix shrugged. “Might hurt all those dropouts though.”

Sam agreed, though he found the implications disconcerting. Even now, the desire to have sex seemed foreign to him. He’d had his fair share of sexual thoughts about Felix, but despite that, he’d never thought about the two of them actually having sex, not really.

And now he couldn’t _stop_ thinking about it.

“Uh, Sammy?”

Sam blinked himself out of his daze and looked at Felix.

“Any particular reason you stopped walking, or...?”

“No reason,” Sam said, striding past Felix and into the gym.

His escape tactic would’ve been more effective if the week’s classes weren’t taking place in the meeting room.

Unfortunate.

He headed in and took a seat, tensing when Felix joined him a few seconds later.

“Don’t start being weird again,” Felix murmured as the rest of the class filtered in.

In Sam’s opinion, the advice came multiple imaginary tangents too late.

 

* * *

 

The physical education teacher went over many of the same points Megan had, for which Sam was grateful.

He doubted he was in any state to absorb new information.

As the hour drew to a close, the teachers began passing out eggs. Sam blankly watched as they went down the rows, handing out egg after egg. Beside him, Felix was silent, likely annoyed at Sam’s apparent withdrawal.

“Can we decorate them?” someone asked.

One of the teachers replied affirmatively.

Felix made a small noise of amusement. “Now if only they’d let us draw dicks,” he whispered, making a few people around them snort.

Sam frowned, Felix’s words only serving to reinforce the imagery currently occupying his thoughts.

“Geez, lighten up a little,” Felix said with a roll of his eyes. “I promise you’ll survive being a single egg-dad for a week.”

Sam’s frown deepened.

“Here,” said one of the teachers, practically shoving an egg in his face.

He carefully received it.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Felix asked, receiving an egg of his own.

No, Sam supposed it wasn’t.

 

* * *

 

“You better not be weird again tomorrow,” Felix said as they left the gym.

Sam watched the careless way Felix was tossing his egg and clutched his own egg closer.

“I’m not being weird,” he said.

“You sure about that? Because it sure seems like you are.”

“I’m not. I’m thinking.”

“Mhmm. Being weird,” Felix concluded.

 

* * *

 

As Sam settled down to sleep that night, it occurred to him that he’d completely forgotten to tell Megan and Mason about the sweet roses.

Perhaps it was for the best.

 

* * *

 

He was out of his driveway by the time he remembered his egg.

Already, he felt like a poor excuse of a parent.

The feeling didn’t lessen once he returned to his car and placed the egg in one of its cup holders.

 

* * *

 

He had no desire to be late for algebra, nor did he want to carry around the egg until his next opportunity to deposit it in his locker.

Opting for the lesser evil, he quickly strode towards the senior lockers, egg protectively tucked to his chest.

 

* * *

 

“Already ignoring your responsibilities? For _shame_ , Sammy.”

“I was under the impression that it wasn’t uncommon,” Sam said, remembering Megan’s initial explanation.

“Yeah, but a goody two shoes like you?” Felix asked, coming to a stop where their paths diverted. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Do _you_ have yours?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Felix said. He triumphantly pulled the egg from within his hoodie and brandished it in Sam’s face.

“.....”

Felix grinned, tossing it up and down. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

Sam watched the egg’s trajectory, feeling his heart rate spike with every flick of Felix’s wrist. “Aren’t you worried about it breaking?” He crossed his arms and added, “Or is that what you’re trying to accomplish?”

A quiet snort accompanied Felix’s eye roll as he returned the egg to his hoodie.

“See you, Sammy,” he said, and headed towards his next class.

 

* * *

 

Mason’s admittance to also sequestering his egg had Sam feeling considerably better about his choice, so it wasn’t until halfway through biology that he remembered the source of his remaining unease: Telling Megan and Mason about Felix’s roses.

He could do it now. Lunch would be soon, the topic of eggs had been sufficiently discussed, and it was still early enough in the week for any consequences to comfortably play out. What better time was there?

All he had to do was ask if the three of them could have lunch together despite it being a Wednesday.

Sam attempted to keep his focus on the teacher’s lecture as well as he could, and once the bell rang, steeled his resolve and made his way towards Mason.

“Would you and Megan join me for lunch?” he asked.

Mason blinked. “Um. Sure? Any reason why?”

Sam nodded.

“Okay... Well, yeah, of course we can,” Mason said. “She’ll come over when she sees me sit with you.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem. So how are you liking the egg project?” Mason asked as they left the room. “Is it as weird as it first sounded?”

“Yes.”

Mason laughed. “I guess we’ve just gotten used to it, then. Seeing it every year, doing it last year...”

“Was Felix careless with his egg last year too?”

Mason’s eyebrows rose.

“He keeps tossing it around,” Sam said. “It’s worrisome.”

Mason’s lips pressed together and he gave Sam’s shoulder a squeeze. “Worry about your own egg, Sam.”

That was easier said than done, especially when a glance across the cafeteria confirmed the presence of Felix’s egg. Predictably, when it wasn’t sailing through the air, it was being spun and rolled across the table.

Megan’s arrival detracted from the spectacle only so much, and Sam watched the egg’s trajectory with a steady undercurrent of apprehension.

“Earth to Sam!”

He blinked and looked back at her.

“Do I have to explain everything again?”

Sam’s silence seemed to answer her question and she sighed.

“What I _said_ was,” she started, taking a sip of her drink, “Felix has been more Felixy. I’d say ‘happier’, but you know how he is. Anyway, what’s up? How are things with you two?”

It took Sam a few seconds to make sense of her words, and in that interim, his eyes flicked Felix’s way one last time.

He’d finally pocketed the egg.

Sam let out a relieved sigh and began, “Everything’s fine. Nothing’s happened, at least not this week.”

“Mm, yeah, I was really worried about the roses last week,” Megan said, taking a bite of her lunch. “Thanks for playing it safe, I really have no idea what would’ve happened if you hadn’t. He can have the weirdest reactions sometimes.”

Sam pressed his lips together and contemplated what to do. In theory, there was nothing wrong with telling her and Mason what had happened. In fact, it was arguably wrong _not_ to tell them. What kind of person let their friends believe something mistaken?

He opened his mouth, only to be interrupted.

“How’s it going over here?” Felix asked, dropping into the seat beside Sam.

Mason’s eyes widened, then narrowed, darting from Felix to Sam to Megan and back again. Megan was much subtler in her approach, eyes solely on Felix and smile widening the slightest bit.

“It’s going great,” she said. “What about you? Anything interesting going on over there?” She tilted her head towards Felix’s table and added, “Sam’s been worried sick about that poor egg of yours.”

Felix turned to him, eyebrow raised. “Has he?”

“...It could break,” Sam said.

Felix laughed and Mason shot him an unnoticed glare.

“You worry too much,” Felix said. “Besides, I’m the only responsible parent here. As far as I can tell, you all just locked your eggs away. Not really the point of the project.”

Sam frowned. Felix was right, as he always was.

“Excuse me,” Sam said, gathering his things as he stood. It was close enough to the end of lunch that it’d be best to take them, never mind the fact that he didn’t relish the thought of leaving his things behind anyway.

The table’s occupants blinked up at him.

“Where are you going?” Megan asked.

“My locker.”

 

* * *

 

His egg lay exactly where he’d left it, atop a few old sheets and pamphlets, all of which had been collecting dust since the first few weeks of school.

Sam regarded the egg in silence.

“Trying to be a good egg-dad?”

Sam froze at Felix’s sudden appearance, relieved that he hadn’t yet picked up his egg. If he had, its fate would’ve been highly uncertain.

Good egg-dads didn’t crush their offspring.

“Y- Yes,” he replied, clearing his throat before elaborating. “The project’s meant to simulate parenthood, and it’s a poor simulation even when performed as it should be. Why make it poorer?”

Felix quirked an eyebrow but said nothing.

They regarded each other for a few seconds, and then Sam reached into his locker and pulled out his egg. He didn’t have any pockets loose enough to keep it in, nor did his bag have enough room, so he resigned himself to a day of manually carrying it around.

“What, did I appeal to your goody two shoes heart?” Felix asked, wearing something that resembled a grin. “Because trust me, that was _not_ my intention.”

Sam shut his locker and turned to face Felix. “What was your intention?”

Felix shrugged. “I dunno. Just pointing out your double standard,” he said.

“Hmm.”

“Didn’t think you’d rise to the challenge though. You do realize that nobody carries around their egg if they can help it?”

Sam nodded. He’d barely spotted any throughout the day, and was ready to bet that the few exceptions he’d seen were a direct result of an imminent trip to the gym.

“But here you are, all set to do the project _right_ ,” Felix said. He crossed his arms and scrutinized Sam. “What if it breaks? There’s a bigger risk of that now.”

“There is,” Sam acknowledged.

“So?”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

The bell rang and the distant sound of people began filling the air.

Felix watched him a moment more, then turned and left, tossing his egg as he went.

 

* * *

 

Sam spent the entirety of literature moving his egg from place to place, constantly worried for its safety.

Megan sent him pitying looks every so often.

 

* * *

 

Felix regaled them all with yet another lesson on improv, only now he was tossing his egg all the while.

Sam glared, hoping to catch his eye.

The chances that Felix _wasn’t_ doing it purely to capitalize on Sam’s unease were very, very slim.

 

* * *

 

Sam said nothing on their walk to the gym and neither did Felix, still tossing his egg.

 

* * *

 

Physical education saw everyone’s return to the meeting room, eggs reunited.

Teachers walked down the rows, inspecting the eggs with clipboards in hand and making check marks as necessary.

Once all the eggs had been accounted for, the day’s lesson began. As expected, it concerned the topic of reproduction, and to Sam’s chagrin, it was _boring_.

He knew everything the teacher was going over, and suspected the rest of his peers also did. How could they not? Puberty had already wreaked havoc on their bodies, so their sex education must have been rounded off long ago.

This was redundant.

The teacher moved on to the topic of abstinence and Sam found himself frowning through the rest of the lesson.

 

* * *

 

“What was the point of that?”

Felix made a questioning noise, continuing to toss his egg.

“I know some schools promote abstinence,” Sam said, finally distracted from the relentless motion of Felix’s egg. “But... They can’t really think that was effective? That lesson? This project?”

Thankfully, Felix pocketed his egg. “Why not?”

Sam fell silent, deep in thought. He knew Felix was well aware of the issues at hand, having addressed them himself once before. What did Felix expect him to say, then?

“...It’s unrealistic.”

“What part of it?”

“All of it,” Sam said, slowing as they approached his car. “An egg isn’t a baby. Teenagers aren’t known for their restraint. Boring lectures make information hard to absorb.”

“But you are.”

Sam tilted his head.

“‘Teenagers aren’t known for their restraint’,” Felix repeated.

“...And I am?”

Felix shrugged and moved to lean against Sam’s car. “Sure. You don’t mess around. You’re not dating anyone. You’re like a robot.”

A twinge of annoyance flared up in Sam at the comparison. He crossed his arms, taking care not to crush his egg.

Felix raised an eyebrow. “What, you don’t think so? When’s the last time you got laid? C’mon, dude, you don’t even get horny over your anime chicks.” He paused. “...Do you?”

“Wh— I— _No_.”

Felix gave him a disbelieving look but returned to the matter at hand. “So my point stands: You’re a robot.”

Sam rolled his eyes and unlocked his car, depositing his bag in the back. Felix evidently took that as an invitation to flop into the passenger seat.

Settling in beside him, Sam carefully returned his egg to its cup holder before continuing their discussion. “I’m not a robot.”

Felix’s disbelief remained evident.

Sam’s annoyance intensified, which was cause for further annoyance, sending him on a downward spiral of brooding.

“My restraint doesn’t mean—” he paused, unsure of what he was attempting to explain, or even to what purpose. “I... I don’t... What makes you think I have restraint?”

He looked up and met Felix’s eyes.

There was a pause.

Felix audibly swallowed.

The moment stretched on.

“Well, you’re— You know. You don’t _do_ anything. You just...” Felix shrugged and looked away.

Diana’s advice came to the forefront of Sam’s mind and he asked, “What should I do?”

Felix’s eyes swung back to him.

Sam maintained eye contact.

Felix shrugged again.

Sam stared at him.

“I dunno. You figure it out. I’ve gotta get going.”

And with that, Felix left his car.

 

* * *

 

Sam spent the rest of the day sitting in his room, wrapped up in his thoughts.

He regarded the chocolate roses as Felix’s words echoed in his ears, mixing with Diana’s.

He had to _do_ something— something unmistakable.

 

* * *

 

Felix was absent.

 

* * *

 

“Egg still doing okay?” Mason asked.

Sam froze.

“Excuse me,” he said, turning around and heading towards the parking lot.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day progressed as expected: Drama consisted of improv games, physical education was spent on the topic of childcare, and Sam drove home with his egg in its cup holder.

He wasn’t certain whether Felix’s absence had been a blessing or a curse.

 

* * *

 

“Felix.”

“Mhmm?”

“We need to talk.”

For one horrifying moment, Sam was certain that Felix’s egg was headed towards certain doom. Namely, destruction by free fall. Felix had fumbled his catch, the egg had slipped past his fingers, and Sam—

_Do something_.

He lunged down and caught the egg, nerves on edge. Had he crushed it? He didn’t think so, but...

Slowly, he straightened back up and opened his hand.

The egg appeared to be in perfect condition.

Immediately, his limbs went weak with relief. It was ridiculous, in Sam’s honest opinion. He had no idea why the egg’s safety concerned him so much.

Felix snatched his egg back and deposited it somewhere in his hoodie.

“...Thanks. I guess. Talk about what?”

Hmm. Sam hadn’t thought that far ahead. Not in regards to the talk itself, but as to the circumstances surrounding it.

The crowded hall outside their history class didn’t seem like the ideal setting.

“Not now. Later.”

Felix watched him, expression unreadable.

“Alright.”

 

* * *

 

“Felix.”

Sam may have imagined the slight start Felix gave, but when he turned in his seat, his nonchalant expression provided no answers either way.

“Finally joining our happy family?” he asked, gesturing around at the table’s occupants.

“No, we need to talk.”

A litany of whispers broke out across the table. Sam spotted Megan and Mason intently watching their exchange.

“Fine,” Felix sighed, turning back to his captive audience and excusing himself, then standing from the table and raising an expectant eyebrow.

There was only one place Sam could imagine their discussion occurring, so it was with sure steps that he led Felix away from the cafeteria, to the hall outside the library.

He stopped and turned on his heel.

“You like me.”

Felix froze.

“You’ve been flirting with me for months.”

Felix’s eyes widened.

“But you think I should do something, so I will.”

.....

It was...

Clumsy, to say the least.

Their lips didn’t magically slot together, their teeth made pressing forward uncomfortable, and they were in plain sight of anyone who happened to walk by.

Then Felix shoved him into the nook in the wall and crushed their fronts together, mouths included.

A conspicuous cracking noise sounded out.

Slowly, deliberately, Felix drew back, eyes traveling downwards. Sam watched as he reached into his hoodie and pulled out a dripping mess of cracked eggshell and failed parenting.

The two of them stared at the steady flow of yolk.

They locked eyes.

“...You owe me an egg.”


	8. Partners (In Crime And Otherwise)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Curtain Call](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/42649304).

“—you take me for? Of course I’m gonna ask him.”

Sam felt a spike of curiosity at Felix’s words, but quietly shut the door and headed towards the refrigerator, arms full of groceries. Felix glanced towards him before speaking into the phone again.

“Hey, he actually just got back, so I’ll call you later, okay?”

Sam began putting things away as Felix finished saying his goodbyes. As soon as he hung up, he strolled over and leaned against a counter.

“That was Megan,” he said, tearing open the box of cookies Sam had just bought. “She said the usual stuff. You know, hoping we’re fine and all.”

“That was nice of her.”

Felix stuffed a cookie in his mouth and made a noise of affirmation. Sam occupied himself with putting away the rest of the groceries as he waited for Felix to get to the real matter at hand.

The seconds ticked by, and once everything had been dealt with, Sam started making himself some tea. Felix, meanwhile, swallowed down the last of his cookie and reached for another, but instead of immediately stuffing it in his mouth, took a moment to speak.

“She’s got an idea. A pretty good one, if you ask me.”

That wasn’t the greatest of endorsements, but Megan’s ideas generally weren’t bad. If anything, the fact that it was hers ought to negate the fact that Felix had endorsed it at all. Or at least Sam thought so.

He raised an eyebrow in question.

“The four of us should meet up a little before New Year’s, don’t you think? And since we’re going to your aunt’s party anyway, we could just leave earlier and visit Megan and Mason first,” Felix said with a shrug.

Sam considered it. There was nothing objectionable about the suggestion. On the contrary, Sam would be delighted to visit them and could think of no better opportunity to do so.

He squinted at Felix. “That was Megan’s idea?”

Felix cheerfully nodded, finally stuffing the second cookie in his mouth.

“ _All_ of her idea?” Sam asked.

Felix tilted his head noncommittally and Sam watched him until he finished chewing.

“Well, the gist of it, yeah.”

Sam maintained eye contact.

Felix looked away as he reached for a third cookie. “Just, y’know, we should hang out more. Strengthen the bonds of our friendship and all that jazz.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Sam asked.

Felix took a bite out of the cookie. “Nothing,” he said. “Is wanting to hang out with friends so weird that you’ve gotta question it?”

“...No,” Sam conceded. “We should go.”

 

* * *

 

For several days, Felix left the topic untouched, until eventually, he didn’t.

“Sammy...”

Sam gave a hum of acknowledgment but continued reading his book.

Felix shifted closer and asked, “Do you ever wanna try new things?”

“Such as?”

Felix shrugged. “Like... I dunno. Stuff people do.”

“That’s a very broad category.”

“Well, you know. Stuff.”

Sam slid his bookmark into place. “Are you referring to sex?”

“ _Bingo_.”

Sam frowned. Felix was rarely so coy where sex was concerned. In fact, the few times he ever had been were all in relation to his deep-seated fantasies. Sam thought those had already come to light, but given Felix’s current attitude, he began wondering if that wasn’t actually the case.

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

 

* * *

 

Sam couldn’t sleep, too wrapped up in Felix’s proposition.

How would such a thing even work? It seemed confusing on a purely physical level, let alone an interpersonal one. Megan and Mason were their friends. Not only that, they were a couple. There was bound to be some measure of jealousy involved in the whole affair.

Felix had assured him that there wouldn’t be, and that everyone involved was well aware of where they stood. Though that may have currently been the case, Sam doubted it would remain so.

People were complicated. Relationships were complicated. Emotions? Even more so.

He peered over at Felix, sound asleep.

Sam hadn’t committed to the idea, but he’d remained open to it throughout Felix’s explanation. Judging by Felix’s mood as they’d finished the discussion, chances were that he believed Sam would eventually agree to it.

Well.

Felix was always right.

 

* * *

 

“Sam, Felix! It’s so good to see you again!”

Sam returned Megan’s hug before shuffling past her and coming face to face with a stony-looking Mason.

“Mace!” greeted Felix, walking up and hooking an arm around his shoulders. “How’s it going? Excited?”

“Oh, don’t tease him, he’s already nervous as it is,” Megan chided.

Felix sighed. “Fair enough. So what’s the plan?”

“Well, I figured you might wanna shower and relax a while. The guest room’s ready, so you can go ahead and get yourselves set up too,” Megan said.

“Sounds good,” Felix said, then looked at Sam. “You can set up our stuff, right? Because I’m really liking that shower idea.”

“Then go shower,” Sam said.

Over the next several minutes, Megan gave them a brief tour, with the guest room and bathroom as highlights. Felix excused himself to go shower, and Sam occupied himself with further readying the guest room.

Afterwards, he crossed paths with Felix on the way to take a shower of his own, and could only hope that things wouldn’t devolve into total chaos while Felix was left unsupervised.

The shower went by quickly, too many thoughts crowding his head for him to focus on any of them for long. He speculated on how the evening would unfold, wondered how much of it Felix and Megan had prepared for, and mulled over the effectiveness of Megan’s birth control.

Sam’s last few moments of solitude were gone before he knew it, and he returned to the guest room, contemplating what to wear. What was the dress code for this sort of thing? He supposed it counted as a casual occasion, and in light of the fact that it was unlikely any of them would be going out for the rest of the evening, he opted for something simple.

Upon his eventual return to the living room, he found Mason sitting on the couch, the only person in sight.

“They’re in the kitchen,” Mason said, apparently sensing his confusion.

Ah. Yes, that explained the muffled laughter coming from its direction.

Sam moved to sit on the couch as well. “How are you?” he asked, all too aware that they hadn’t yet had a chance to talk.

“Fine,” Mason said. “And you?”

“Fine,” Sam replied.

“That’s good.”

“Yes.”

They watched the television in silence.

“Sammy,” Felix called, emerging from the kitchen and striding towards them, chips and dip in tow. He set the bowls down on the table and jabbed a finger the way he'd come. “Megan wants you.”

Sam blinked. “Alright,” he said, and left Mason at Felix’s mercy.

The moment he walked into the kitchen, Megan’s head whipped around, eyes glittering with delight.

“Sam, hey,” she said, waving him over. “How are you? Was the shower good?”

“I’m fine, thank you. And yes, it was.”

Megan smiled. “Yeah? Good, good.” Pulling glasses from a cabinet, she asked, “So how are you feeling? About all this, I mean.”

He hesitated. In all honesty, he wasn’t _averse_ to the idea. If anything, he was deathly curious about it. Granted, Megan and Mason being his friends did lend a certain awkwardness to the whole endeavor, but he doubted he’d fare much better with complete strangers.

“I’m fine with it.”

A breath of laughter left Megan as she began pouring their drinks. “I would hope so!” she said, then suddenly turned to him, brow furrowed in worry. “Though if you’re having second thoughts, please go ahead and say so. It’s no fun unless everyone’s having fun.”

“No, really, I’m fine with it,” he assured her, offering a smile.

She smiled back. “Okay, good.”

“But Mason—”

Megan waved him off. “Oh, don’t worry about him. He wouldn’t have agreed to this unless he was fine with it too. And really curious.”

“Hmm. And you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you curious?”

“Of course,” Megan replied, finishing with the last drink. “It’s not like I’ve even had a threesome before. Now, come on, help me with these.”

She handed two of the glasses to Sam before heading back to the living room. He trailed behind her, only to find Felix and Mason exactly where they’d been left, with the exception of the former’s arm newly slung over the latter’s shoulders.

“Welcome back, you two,” Felix said, slowly disentangling himself from Mason’s side.

Mason looked glad to be given his space.

Megan set down the glasses she was carrying and sat between them, nestling into Mason. Sam followed suit by setting down his glasses and taking a seat beside Felix.

“Having fun?” Megan asked, glancing between Mason and Felix.

“I’d almost forgotten how _charming_ Felix could be,” Mason answered.

Felix barked out a laugh. “Why, thank you.”

Mason gave an unamused grunt and Megan pouted.

“Be nice,” she said. “Now, then. How about a movie?”

 

* * *

 

Sam spent the next two hours with his stomach twisted in knots.

He couldn’t have been the only one, but no one else gave any indication of sharing his affliction. Instead, they all seemed focused on the movie, studiously eating away at the bowl of chips.

Hazy thoughts of what was to come plagued his mind. Him with Felix in front of others? In front of friends? Him and Felix _with_ friends?

With Megan and Mason...

Megan with Mason? In front of Sam and Felix? _With them?_

Felix with them.

_Sam_ with them.

It was all equally difficult to imagine but Sam tried his best, and soon enough, the chips were gone and the movie’s credits were rolling.

Megan muted the television.

“So. Are we doing this?” she asked.

“I’d say so,” Felix replied.

Megan’s eyes met Sam’s as Felix’s met Mason’s. Sam wondered if Megan and Felix had agreed to that— finding each other’s partners accountable. It seemed like the kind of thing they’d have planned out.

He nodded.

Mason nodded as well.

“Great,” Megan said, standing from the couch. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and get everything ready.”

And with that, she was off.

Felix threw his arms over the back of the couch. “Isn’t this cozy?”

Neither Sam or Mason answered him.

The minutes ticked by.

“Bathroom’s free!”

“I’ll be right there,” Mason called, then stood from the couch and left.

Felix scooted closer to Sam.

“Hey, are you ready?”

Sam nodded.

“You don’t look it.”

“How do I look?”

Felix gave him a sympathetic smile. “C’mon, Sammy. I’d know that face anywhere. You’re freaking the fuck out.”

“I’m not.”

“Not the bad kind of freak-out,” Felix clarified, practically scooting right into his lap. “More like the kind where you get so wrapped up in your thoughts that you might as well not even be in the room.”

Sam frowned. “I highly doubt I’ll be unaware of my surroundings in this particular case.”

“That’s the spirit!” Felix grinned, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

For a while, Sam simply watched the jiggle of Felix’s leg, fully engrossed in its motion. Unbidden, a question came to him, one that he was surprised to realize he’d never asked.

“Whose idea was it?”

“...What, all this?”

Sam dragged his gaze from Felix’s jiggling leg. “The initial idea. The four of us.”

Felix’s grin offered no clues.

Mason’s head popped around the corner. “Hey, bathroom’s free. We’ll be waiting for you in our bedroom, okay?”

They nodded in unison and Mason left.

“You go first,” Felix said, giving Sam a push. “That way you can relax with them a couple minutes before everything.”

“And you?”

“Nah, I’d like the party to get started when I show up,” Felix answered.

He took Sam’s face in hand and pressed their lips together, the contact reassuring. Sam deepened the kiss, just enough to brush their tongues against each other, then withdrew and stood, making his way to the bathroom.

Once there, he proceeded to ready himself, and upon determining that there was nothing more he could do, left the bathroom. On his way past the living room, he glanced over and wordlessly communicated his readiness to Felix.

Then he walked up to Megan and Mason’s bedroom and pushed the door open.

The two of them were curled up on the bed, apparently deep in conversation, their hushed tones obfuscating the subject matter. As soon as Mason’s attention shifted to him, Megan glanced over her shoulder.

“ _Sam_ ,” she said, a smile spreading across her face. She shuffled closer and patted the bed in invitation. “C’mere.”

Despite his nerves, he did as asked, and immediately, Megan reached out to drag him up the bed.

He let himself be dragged.

She maneuvered him onto his back and lay down at his side. Mason, who’d remained motionless since Sam’s appearance, rested along his other side, propped up on an elbow.

“You look nervous,” Megan commented.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

“Sure, a little. A lot of other things too.”

“...Like?”

The scrutiny in her gaze was subtle, but clearly there. In lieu of providing an answer, she said, “I’d go ahead and kiss you, but we already agreed not to do anything until we were all here.”

Sam’s heart skipped a beat at her words and he anxiously glanced at Mason.

Megan laughed. “ _Relax_. But seriously, if you wanna take a break or even totally stop, just say so. Whatever you want.” She shot Mason a look. “And that goes for you too,” she added, pressing herself to Sam’s side and reaching out over his stomach.

She caught Mason’s hand and tugged at it, forcing him to finally lie down and shift closer as she pulled his arm towards her, over Sam’s stomach. Then, apparently satisfied, she flung her own arm over Sam’s stomach and settled her head on his shoulder.

The three of them lay there in silence. Sam felt their warmth against his sides, though Megan’s was more noticeable given her proximity. Opposite her, Mason had managed to maintain a modicum of distance between them. For whose benefit, Sam couldn’t say.

Tentatively, Sam cleared his throat. “...Are we all sure about this?”

“Are you?” Megan asked.

“If everyone else is,” Sam said.

“You don’t feel pressured though, right?”

Well, somewhat. He didn’t think it was possible _not_ to feel pressured in such circumstances. Even so, he doubted Megan would appreciate an affirmative reply, especially when he’d agreed to everything out of genuine curiosity.

“I’m interested in it,” he said instead. “I’d rather try it than not, but I don’t have a strong preference either way.”

Megan nodded against him.

Mason remained silent.

Sam frowned. He knew Megan and Mason’s bond was strong, and as such, they likely had a near-complete understanding of each other. Logically, it followed that things wouldn’t have progressed this far if either of them had any misgivings.

Still, Sam had to be _sure_.

“...Mason?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to try it?”

“...Yes.”

“You don’t feel pressured?”

Megan scooted herself up and pressed her lips to Sam’s ear.

“ _He’s just shy_ ,” she whispered.

Judging by the way he ducked his head and finally burrowed into Sam’s side, Mason had either heard her or made a very good guess at her words.

Sam supposed the matter was settled, then.

As if on cue, Felix strolled in and clapped his hands together. “Alright, everybody ready?” he asked.

“Only if you are,” Megan quipped, a note of amusement in her voice.

“I was _born_ ready.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Mason, are you ready?”

Interestingly, Felix’s presence seemed to have reinvigorated Mason.

“Yes,” he said, his agreement almost sounding like a challenge. His arm squeezed lightly at Sam and he asked, “And you?”

This was it. There would be no going back.

Of course, Sam knew any one of them _could_ put a stop to things, but a stop was different from a reversal.

“I’m ready.”

“Okay,” Felix grinned, rubbing his hands together and climbing onto the bed. “So how are we starting?”

“Slowly would probably work best,” Megan said. She pulled away and sat up, leaning on an elbow, then tapped her chin, seemingly deep in thought. After a few glances around, as if to ascertain whether she had the whole room’s attention, she asked, “Mason, what do you think?”

“...Huh?”

“How should we start?”

“Oh. Um. Kissing, I guess?”

Megan nodded like she’d been expecting that. “Who?”

“What?”

“Who should kiss first?”

Mason sat up and leaned on an elbow too, but kept his other arm thrown over Sam’s stomach. Sam watched his brow furrow as he considered Megan’s question, evidently taking it very seriously.

Absently, Sam noted that with Megan and Mason leaning on their elbows at his sides, along with Felix sitting fully upright, his was the lowest position in the room, literally speaking.

His gut fluttered at the thought.

Mason met Megan’s eyes.

“You and Sam,” he said.

Megan’s eyebrows went up and she looked over at Felix, then at Sam.

“Does that work?” she asked.

Sam imagined that Felix would speak up if he had some objection, and since he didn’t, Sam nodded.

Megan leaned down and pressed their mouths together.

Mason’s arm tightened around him, but the bulk of Sam’s attention was on the feel of Megan’s lips. His tension started ebbing away and he opened his mouth, breath catching in his throat as she trapped his lower lip between hers and lightly traced it with her tongue, then released it and repeated the process with his upper.

With a final peck, she pulled away and smiled at Mason, crooking her finger. The moment he leaned over, she closed the distance between them and kissed him too, lips parting around his. She pressed an arm onto Sam for balance, pinning him to the bed, and simultaneously, Mason’s hand began stroking at his side, likely entirely subconsciously.

Sam watched them in fascination, their silhouettes blocking out the sight of Felix, who he had no doubt was watching them just as intently.

They broke apart, both breathing heavily.

“Alright, my turn,” Felix said.

He rapidly slid up the bed and headed straight for Mason, brusquely pushing him to sit against the headboard, and though Sam found himself missing the weight of Mason’s arm, he was sufficiently distracted by the sight of Felix straddling and kissing the owner of said arm.

At first, Mason appeared immobile, letting Felix do as he pleased. Suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, he opened his mouth and the kiss turned heated. His hands grasped at Felix’s sides, Felix’s fingers dug into his shoulders, and any sense of passion was replaced with one of competition.

Sam vaguely registered Megan tugging at him, but it soon became apparent that she was merely clearing her path. Once he was out of her way, she deftly climbed over him and pushed at Felix. It took more than a single push, but he eventually leaned back and leveled her with a decidedly unimpressed look.

“Scoot,” was all she said, giving Mason a push as well.

A minute of awkward repositioning later, she settled against the headboard, her skirt riding up a little as her legs bracketed Mason’s. He leaned back, resting against her chest, and as Felix reclaimed his position atop him, Sam belatedly realized that he himself had been abandoned.

He was too preoccupied with watching them to really mourn the loss.

Again, Felix kissed Mason, and again, it devolved into some manner of competition. Felix’s hands returned to Mason’s shoulders and Megan laid her own atop them. Sam watched the kiss progress to bites before breaking off, and after some sort of silent exchange between the three of them, Felix kissed Megan over Mason’s shoulder.

Distantly, Sam noted that he and Mason had yet to kiss.

There was an interlude during which Felix and Megan kissed— more intense than friends, less fervent than lovers. Mason kept his hold on Felix and watched them without objection until, eventually, Felix pulled back and returned his focus to Mason.

“Now, then. I think it’s time to _really_ get things started.”

Abruptly, he made his way down Mason’s body, stopping once he was facing his crotch. Mason’s eyes had widened in contrast to Megan’s, which were now clearly hooded. Sam carefully shifted closer, wary of disturbing the atmosphere.

“Megan,” Felix said, indicating Mason’s crotch. “Will you do the honors?”

Immediately, one of her hands dragged down and palmed at it. Mason’s head fell back onto her shoulder as she rubbed her hand back and forth. Felix’s eyes glittered at the sight. Slowly, she began undoing Mason’s pants, and then he was finally exposed.

Sam’s assessment was instant: Shorter than Felix, though not by much, and definitely thicker.

Any further evaluation was stopped by Felix closing his mouth around him.

Sam felt heated, his skin sweaty and his clothes uncomfortable. His own erection was trapped in the confines of his pants, but he longed to set it free and—

And what, he wasn’t sure. He only knew that it needed to be _free_.

Mason bit his lip while Felix worked, both of them completely silent save for Mason’s labored breaths and the slick sounds that occasionally left Felix’s mouth.

Sam was so engrossed in the spectacle that it took him a moment to notice Megan’s fingers curling in his shirt, tugging at him again. Obediently, he went, though he was reluctant to pull his eyes from Felix’s mouth for even a moment.

When he was close enough, Megan’s hand wrapped around the back of his neck and drew him in, initiating another kiss. Surprised, he didn’t immediately close his eyes, and caught sight of Mason turning to look at them. Felix would surely be following suit.

With her hand still on his neck, Megan kept their mouths together, but stopped kissing him long enough to breathe against his lips, “Mace, you should try Sam...”

And with that, she shifted her grip and pushed Sam in Mason’s direction.

Sam narrowly caught his balance, doubting Felix would appreciate getting trampled while he had a choking hazard down his throat. Come to think of it, he doubted Mason would appreciate that either.

Confirming that Felix had gone untrampled, he looked back up at Mason, and the two of them stared at each other for what felt like an impossibly long time.

He felt a swat on his thigh and looked down again, only to be met by the sight of Felix glaring at him, cheek bulging as a result of his tilted head. As Sam looked on, Felix gestured at him and Mason in turn, then tapped at an imaginary watch on his wrist.

“Felix, don’t be rude,” Megan murmured.

Felix grumbled irritably, though he seemed appeased by Mason’s answering jolt.

Taking a breath, Sam steeled himself and leaned forward.

The first meeting of their lips was soft and unhurried, as Sam wasn’t in the habit of kissing anyone but Felix with rough desperation. Or of kissing anyone but Felix at all.

Mason seemed confused by Sam’s approach, parting his lips and waiting, then hesitantly returning the gentle presses he was being offered. Gradually, Sam deepened the kiss, never progressing far before drawing away, like the steady ebb and flow of the tide.

By the time their tongues had become intimately acquainted with each other, both of their chests were heaving and Sam sat back, needing to regain his breath.

His attention was drawn to one of Megan’s hands closing around one of Mason’s, lifting it up and setting it atop Felix’s head. In the time since Sam had last laid eyes on him, he’d regressed to simple, demure licks, but Megan and Mason’s hands now pushed him back down.

Despite another annoyed grumble, Felix made no move to pull away, and Megan removed her hand. Mason kept his own in place.

Megan tugged at Sam again and, not needing to be told twice, he closed the distance between him and Mason once more. This time, their kiss was faster to intensify, but Sam was still unprepared for the feeling of Megan’s hand on his crotch.

He gasped, pulling away and resting his forehead against Mason’s shoulder. It took all his willpower not to thrust into her touch. Otherwise, his orgasm would be sure to follow.

“Fuck, you’re adorable,” Megan cooed, hand insistent. “Felix, why did you never tell me how adorable Sam is?”

There was a pause during which Felix presumably pulled off of Mason, a brief vocalization as he started answering, and then a garbled noise that sounded suspiciously like Mason pushing him back down.

Sam would’ve had a hard time fighting down a laugh if he hadn’t been dangerously near his peak.

Felix coughed, muffled at first, then loud and clear as he pulled off of Mason again. “Fucking _rude_ ,” he muttered, pout audible.

If the shift of the shoulder under Sam was anything to go by, Mason had evidently offered Felix a shrug for his trouble.

“Hmph. Hey, Sammy, get down here.”

Sam took a shaky breath, almost wishing he’d come in Megan’s grip while he had the chance. Instead, he carefully lowered himself to Felix’s side, erection hot and heavy, continuously staining the front of his pants as he tried his best to avoid any unnecessary friction.

“What is it?” he asked.

Oh. A kiss, apparently.

Sam’s mouth was pliant against Felix’s, as was the rest of him, and he soon found himself pushed onto his back. They settled into a rhythm, and he noted a hint of salt on Felix’s tongue. It was likely a remnant of Mason, but far from minding it, Sam enjoyed the vivid imagery it evoked.

He matched Felix’s enthusiasm, if not his method, and each of their kisses blended into the next. Lost to the moment, Sam wasn’t entirely sure how long had passed when Felix finally hefted himself up.

Felix wiped his mouth and looked over at their audience. Sam followed his gaze.

Mason was still leaning against Megan, his erection flushed and leaking, and her hands seemed to be touching him everywhere but there.

Felix huffed out a laugh. “Right. Sammy, how about you take care of Mace while _you”_ —he raised an eyebrow at Megan—“and _I_ have some fun?”

Megan smiled, closing her arms around Mason and holding him tight. She leaned her cheek against his head and asked, “Mm, what do you think?”

Mason regarded Felix with a grim look. “...Fine.”

Megan pressed a noisy kiss to his cheek and shuffled out from behind him. Sam slid out of the way and Felix maneuvered towards her, and once they met, they were quick to end up atop one another. Only a few kisses later, Felix was yanking up her skirt and moving down her body, coming to a stop with his head between her thighs.

He gently kissed at one of them, lips sticking to her skin as he pulled away, repeating the process higher up. Megan’s eyes were closed and her back was arched, hands fisted in the bedspread. Her thighs spread just the slightest bit, and Felix’s hand settled near her underwear. His fingers flitted over her center and her hips rolled. He replaced his fingers with his mouth.

Sam was enraptured by it, wholly focused on the way Felix had started pulling her underwear down, when his attention was suddenly redirected to the hand in his hair as Mason tugged him into Felix’s previous position.

He looked up, making eye contact with Mason. The hand stayed in his hair and Mason’s expression gave nothing away.

Sam regarded his erection. It had waned, but nevertheless stood firmly, a thin trail of fluid running down it. The sight, coupled with the knowledge of what he’d have to do, had Sam’s own erection twitching.

Taking a breath, he brought his mouth close and pressed a kiss to its side.

Mason’s hand tightened in his hair, not uncomfortably so, and Sam moved to kiss its other side. He trailed his tongue up to the head and tentatively wrapped his lips around it, lightly suckling, only to be rewarded by a new helping of mild saltiness.

Sam angled his head to keep Felix and Megan in sight.

Felix’s mouth was buried between Megan’s legs and her fingers were scrabbling at his hair. He shifted slightly within his limited space, alternating between withdrawing and burrowing, both actions eliciting frantic tosses of her head.

Mason tugged at Sam’s hair, reminding him of what he was supposed to be doing. Reluctantly, he tore his eyes from Felix and Megan and renewed his efforts, slowly sinking down onto Mason’s erection, letting it ease his mouth and throat open.

A series of rustles came from Felix and Megan’s direction, and though Sam ached to know what was happening, he kept his gaze fixed on the task at hand. That was, at least, until an unmistakable rhythm began, interspersed with wet noises and low moans.

Sam’s curiosity won out. He looked over.

Felix was fucking Megan.

Right there, in front of Mason.

Not _clearly_ —many of their clothes were still on, if not completely in place—but there could be no mistaking what was happening, not with the way Felix’s thrusts shook Megan’s body or the way her limbs were tightly wound around him.

Mason pushed into Sam’s mouth, not deeply enough to make him gag, but unexpected enough to catch him by surprise. He forced his throat to relax and began sucking in earnest, pleased by the twitching and throbbing against his tongue.

“Hey, you know what would be fun?” Felix asked, the sound of his thrusts slowing. “Sammy should get a chance to try out pussy.”

It felt as if the whole room had frozen over, or perhaps only Sam.

Him and Megan? That was bound to be a new experience, in more ways than one.

He’d seen naked women before, women like Megan. There were plenty of them to be found in books and movies. Of course, they were also in the odd smattering of porn he saw, which was mostly at Felix’s insistence. All that aside, Sam highly doubted the actual experience of it would compare.

Mason pulled him up by his hair and wordlessly pushed him in Megan’s direction. Felix wore a triumphant grin as he pulled Sam closer and traded positions with him, scooting back to Mason’s side.

Megan’s eyes were dark and her lips were parted. She slowly blinked up at Sam but said nothing. Her legs opened slightly and he looked down.

Hmm. He could see why people likened it to a flower, though he still found the description lacking. Two petals did not a flower make. He reached out, looking up at Megan in question. She nodded and he ran his thumb over one of her folds.

It was soft. Also wet, given her and Felix’s recent excursion.

Sam gave it a gentle tug. He rolled it between his fingers. Then his attention shifted the slightest bit upwards and he prodded her clitoris.

“.....”

“.....”

“...Sam, it’s not a button.”

“I- I know that.”

Megan lazily smiled up at him. “Here,” she said, and reached for his hand.

Sam watched as she took hold of his thumb and pressed it to her clitoris at a slightly different angle, swirling it around at a leisurely pace.

“Like that.”

She withdrew her hand and Sam continued the motion, reassured by the way her brow furrowed and her eyes fluttered shut. It wasn’t long before her hips began rolling, accompanied by quiet gasps.

“So... Are you gonna fuck her?”

Sam turned his head to find Felix and Mason intently watching the proceedings.

“...If that’s alright?” he asked the room at large.

Megan laughed softly in contrast to Felix’s sharp cackle.

Sam frowned.

One of her legs reached out to smooth over his side. “No, Sam, of course it’s alright. Unless you don’t want to?”

As always, Sam generally preferred expanding his horizons where possible, even if that drive didn’t quite manifest itself as ‘want’.

But explaining that would take too long.

“It’s fine,” was all he said, finally freeing his erection and taking it in hand.

Megan was already stretched open, courtesy of Felix, but she hadn’t needed any preparation prior to taking him either. Sam imagined that to be awfully convenient. Still, he pushed in slowly, thumb still moving in place, and watched her face for any sign of discomfort. Seeing none, he turned his focus downwards.

Her insides were warm and slick, much like Felix’s mouth, and there was something to be said for the way they cushioned Sam’s length. It was pleasurable, undeniably so, and he couldn’t help but give a small thrust as he bottomed out.

“Oh, hold on,” Megan interrupted.

Sam instantly stilled.

He watched as she squirmed in place, yanking off her shirt, then pulled his hand from her clitoris and placed it on one of her breasts instead. It was supple, and he gave it an experimental squeeze before running a finger over the nipple.

He failed to see what the appeal was.

He gave another thrust and both breasts bounced.

He saw _some_ of the appeal.

His thrusting picked up force and speed. Megan’s legs closed around him and he leaned forward, keeping his eyes on the relentless roll of her breasts. He didn’t find them any more arousing than he ever had, but having such a visual indicator of his actions was something he appreciated.

It wasn’t until Megan tapped his shoulder and nodded to the side that Sam realized he’d been too focused on her to notice their partners’ activities.

Evidently, Felix was better prepared for the evening than Sam had initially thought. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes since Sam last laid eyes on them, and yet a naked Mason was buried deep in an equally naked Felix, no bottle of lube in sight despite the slickness where their bodies met.

Felix, now on all fours, was looking decidedly satisfied, as if he’d won something against all odds. From the sight of it, his prize was either Mason’s erection or his impatience.

Sam suspected the latter.

Megan, not one to be outdone, tightened her hold on Sam and moved to flip them over. He obliged, carefully rolling onto his back and blinking up at her. Without a word, she pulled off what few clothes he wore, then started riding him as she looked over at Felix and Mason.

Felix frowned. “Wait, wait,” he spoke up, pulling away from Mason and turning around. In a matter of seconds, he’d pushed Mason down beside Sam and mounted him, shooting Megan a cheeky grin.

Sam could only take in the sight of them, side by side atop each other’s partners, and wonder how all their lives had come to this.

Not that he was complaining, but it’d be nice to know.

“There, isn’t this better?” Felix asked, and for one disconcerting moment, it was like he wasn’t even naked in Mason’s lap at all, but fully in charge of the situation— a situation which, for that one moment, seemed much bigger and more complex than a sexually adventurous escapade among friends.

Then the moment was gone and he was kissing Megan, his hands fondling her breasts while one of her hands played with his erection.

Sam glanced over at Mason to find him avidly watching their display, then turned his own attention to it. The longer it went on, the more he found himself pondering Mason’s feelings on it. Did they match his own? For that matter, what _were_ his own feelings? What were Felix and Megan’s?

How did _any_ of them feel about the whole thing?

Little by little, the kiss ended, the hands pulled away, and a bout of silent communication ensued. Felix and Megan grinned at each other, and after a series of darting eyes and raised eyebrows, simultaneously faced Sam and Mason.

“Your turn,” Megan said, looking back and forth between the two of them.

Sam raised an eyebrow. He’d already kissed Mason, and though he wouldn’t mind doing so again, he failed to see anything particularly special about another kiss—

His musings were cut short by Mason’s hand turning his jaw and kissing him.

It was nice. The movement of Mason’s lips was strong and steady, and when Sam’s mouth opened, he didn’t immediately lick into it. Instead, he brought his other hand to Sam’s chest. His fingers smoothed over it in broad strokes, and Sam absently wondered if Mason was purposely doing his best to put on a show for Felix and Megan.

That was only to be expected, really. Felix and Megan had done so, and as Megan had said, it was now his and Mason’s turn.

Sam had no idea what to do. Should he touch Mason back? Would that look good? Were some touches more visually appealing than others? He could play it safe and mirror Mason’s own caresses, but that might seem as if he wasn’t putting in the right amount of effort.

Mason trailed kisses along his jaw until reaching his ear. “ _Relax_ ,” he whispered into it.

Sam didn’t have time to lament his transparency before Megan started moving again, her hips rolling atop his and rekindling his arousal. Judging by Mason’s grunt, Felix had done the same.

Mason kissed Sam again, deeper now, and even let out a few moans into his mouth. Unsure of how to respond, Sam settled for clutching at the hand on his chest and holding on tight. Their kiss continued and so did Felix and Megan’s efforts, the air heavy with the sounds of sex.

There was a tug at Sam’s free hand and he blindly allowed it, preoccupied with kissing Mason. Confusion briefly clouded his mind at the texture under his fingers, but was soon replaced by recognition.

He dutifully thumbed at Megan’s clitoris, relishing in both her moans and the effect they had on Mason’s kisses. Her movements grew more frantic and it was all Sam could do to keep his thumb in place, then her insides tightened and her body shook as a long moan escaped her throat.

Mason pulled away to look at her and Sam took the opportunity to see how Felix was faring.

Very well, it seemed. He’d taken inspiration from Megan and was now pulling Mason’s hand to himself. Mason, focused on the aftermath of Megan’s orgasm, simply wrapped his hand around Felix and stroked him without complaint. Felix grinned and caught Sam’s eye.

They held each other’s gazes as Felix rode Mason, as Mason’s hand wrung out Felix’s orgasm, and as Mason gripped his hips and thrust into him. Mason came, Megan renewed the roll of her hips, and it all culminated in Sam emptying himself into her, eyes still fixed on Felix’s.

 

* * *

 

The silence was broken by Megan’s breathless laugh.

“Wow. It took two years, but here we are. You can cross that one off your bucket list,” she said to Felix.

Sam made a questioning noise.

Mason sighed and turned to look at him. “Apparently these two”—he shot Megan and Felix a glare while they quietly snickered—“once made some sort of pact. Something about... All this, I guess.”

“Excuse you, it wasn’t a _pact_ ,” Felix corrected, propping himself up on his elbows. “It was an acknowledgment of the fact that we could be mutually beneficial to each other. Not that we’d pictured it going like this.” He motioned towards Sam with a nod. “You were supposed to have been a girl.”

Sam blinked. “Why?”

“Well, I _am_ straight, y’know.”

Megan and Mason burst into laughter, and it was all Sam could do to keep his lips from quirking upwards in response. Felix didn’t seem to find it nearly as amusing.

“As in I _prefer_ chicks,” he tried to speak over them, but it was no use.

He glared off to the side with a pout.

Sam reached out and brushed at his arm.

Felix raised a disgruntled eyebrow back at him, to which Sam’s only answer was a smile. That was evidently answer enough: Felix’s frown eased away, and for a split-second, it was even a smile of his own before inevitably becoming one of his usual smirks.

“ _Anyway_ ,” he said, poking at Mason’s shoulder until the laughter died away. “Next time, _you_ should fuck Sammy. I think we all wanna see that.”

Sam was certain his eyes had gone as wide as Mason’s, but judging from Megan’s grin, Felix had found himself a permanent partner in crime.


	9. Two Steps Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 2, Episode 16](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/42330401).

Sam was conflicted.

He longed to open his arms and have Felix slot between them. He longed for a return to their easy banter. He longed for a way to undo their disastrous last interaction.

But most importantly, he longed for established boundaries, and had a feeling that hugging Felix wasn’t the greatest method of asserting them. So, as much as it pained him, Sam crossed his arms over his chest in a clear refusal of Felix’s plea.

As if confused, Felix tilted his head to the side, though it was more of a twitch than anything else. His arms were still held out.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Sam started, trying to piece together his thoughts on the matter. He carefully avoided meeting Felix’s eyes as he went on, “I don’t... I think we should stay away from each other.”

“...What?”

“A break. For a while, at least. I’m not sure for how long.”

“But... But why?”

Sam chanced a glance at Felix.

His eyes were shimmering and he’d drawn his arms closer to himself. Despite that, they were still open, as if prepared to hug Sam at a moment’s notice.

Sam sighed. “We get carried away when we’re together. I know I do, and I think you do too. It isn’t good for either of us.”

“...Wh- Why not?”

Sam turned his attention to the wall, unsettled by Felix’s refusal to blink away his tears. “I haven’t been acting like myself since we started... _This_ ,” he said. “Maybe even before then. I’d like some time alone. The rest of the school year, at least. I just want to be myself, by myself. Away from people, and especially away from you.”

“N- No, Sammy, you have to listen, you can’t—”

Felix took in a great shuddering breath and Sam resolutely kept his gaze averted.

“I... I _need_ you, and I know I said it b- before but it’s _true now_ and—”

No, Sam couldn’t take it. Not Felix’s words, not his tone. If he went on, Sam was liable to tear down his self-imposed walls and dive right back in.

“—I can’t stand it but I can’t change it, and every time I think about it too much I feel like I can’t even breathe right but—”

No, no, _no_.

“—I’ve never felt like this before and no matter what I do it doesn’t go away, I’ve tried and I’ve tried but it _won’t_ and I keep needing you and wondering _why_ because I know it can’t be love except sometimes I wish it _was_ —”

“ _Please stop_.”

To his credit, Felix did, though Sam doubted it did either of them any good.

The next few seconds passed in silence. Sam’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, and he doubted Felix’s was any better off. Eventually, Sam steeled himself as best he could and said, “I don’t— I _can’t_ care. I won’t change my mind. I’m sorry you’re hurt, but I can’t do this. _We_ can’t do this.”

For a long time, neither of them said anything more, and Sam started to think that Felix was giving him the silent treatment.

“But... But California?” Felix suddenly asked, sounding small and broken. “Are you going to come? With me?”

“I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

A quiet noise sounded out, one akin to a whimper. Sam couldn’t help but glance at Felix again. His eyes still shimmered, yet he didn’t look sad. Lost, maybe. Desolate. Not _sad_. It was a small comfort, but one Sam was glad for.

And then Felix spoke.

“So that’s it? Y- You’re leaving me? Just like th- that? After everything?”

“I’m distancing myself from you. I’m focusing on school and ignoring distractions. I’m spending time on what _I_ want.”

“By leaving me. Abandoning me. _Us_.”

“...Yes.”

“Even though I... You really don’t care? Th- That I...?”

Sam breathed in deep and—reluctantly but definitively—maintained eye contact.

“...You can’t mean that.”

“I do.”

At first, Felix seemed frozen in place, eyes wide and glistening in the semi-darkness of their alcove. Then he blinked. Anger took over his expression. Twin drops of tears poured down his face and he audibly swallowed.

“ _Fuck you, Sam Ortez_ ,” he snarled, hands shaking as he drew them close and curled them into fists. “I... I hope you fucking _die_.”

Sam’s stomach clenched and quivered. His heart thundered in his chest, but he felt paralyzed. “...You can’t mean that...”

Felix bared his teeth, jaw clenched and glare unwavering. “Yeah? Fucking _try me_ ,” he hissed. “You’re the worst thing that ever happened to me. I _hate_ you.”

Sam couldn’t fix this. He’d gone too far, he’d miscalculated, and now he had no idea what to do. He might throw up. He really might. Strange, since he hadn’t eaten anything unusual.

“You’re the worst _person_ I’ve ever met. Always so fucking _boring_ , so fucking _weird_. Too much of a goddamn _pushover_ to ever do anything for yourself. You’re _pathetic_.”

The bell rang and Sam felt a vague sense of worry that they were running late for class.

“No wonder you always need someone telling you what to do, when every single choice you make is _so fucking stupid_. I’ve done so _much_ for you. You know I have. And for what? So you can go back to being a spineless little bitch? You’ve got no social life, no social _skills_ — All you care about is school because you can’t even function without being told _how_. Always hoping you followed directions right, that you were good enough. What, did you think maybe some teacher would like you enough to fuck you then? Give it up, Sam. You were a total virgin for a _reason_.”

Sam felt dizzy. His vision was darkening. Maybe he _had_ eaten something he shouldn’t have.

“And you know what that reason is?”

He should probably lie down...

“Nobody likes you. Nobody wants you around. _You_ , Sam Ortez, are nothing. You’re _useless_.”

The last thing Sam saw was the hatred in Felix’s expression give way to what might’ve been concern.

Might’ve.


	10. A Different Tune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 1, Episode 6](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/40709894).

...It couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Yes.”

A smile spread across Mason’s face. “Great! Follow me,” he said, walking off towards Felix’s table.

Sam trailed after him, and as they neared it, Megan caught sight of them. Immediately, she grinned and said something to Felix, who looked their way as well.

“Sammy!” Felix greeted. “C’mere, sit down!”

He patted the empty seat at his side and Sam cautiously took it.

“Decided to hang out with us after all, huh?”

Sam nodded.

Felix turned to Megan. “You owe me twenty bucks,” he said, then turned back to Sam. “So, how’s drama treating you? Still wish you weren’t there?”

The table’s collective scrutiny came down on Sam and he frowned. There was simply no way that Felix _wasn’t_ purposely trying to disparage him. But that was alright, Sam had expected nothing less.

“No. I told you, train wrecks can be fun to watch.”

He heard a few whispers around him and wondered if his words had sounded like a slight against the drama class as a whole.

“Interesting. Very interesting,” Felix mused.

Megan rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up. Nobody likes it at first.”

“Speak for yourself,” Felix said with a shrug. “Me? I was a natural. Shame none of you were there to see it.”

Sam highly doubted that, but if anyone could flawlessly integrate into drama, it had to be Felix. “You signed up on purpose?” Sam asked him.

“Damn right I did. Blew the other newbies right outta the water. Some of the others too, actually.”

There was soft laughter around the table, of the sort meant to complement a statement rather than refute it. Somehow, the observation annoyed Sam. No one there had personally witnessed Felix’s first year of drama, so why should they lend credence to his boasting?

“I signed up too,” Sam said.

Felix raised an eyebrow and asked, “Yeah? What, you wanted an easy grade?”

“No, my parents suggested it.”

Someone across the table snorted but Felix kept his eyes on Sam.

“Hmm. I can see that,” he said.

A few seconds passed as they watched each other, with Felix slightly narrowing his eyes before looking away and grinning out at the rest of the table. “Well, then! I think it’s time we all get to know Sammy,” he declared, clapping a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

Sam felt himself tense. It was the second month of school, introductions had no business happening anymore.

“Tell us about yourself,” Felix prompted, mercifully drawing his hand back.

Sam’s gut gave an unpleasant twist, and a quick scan of the table revealed all its occupants’ gazes focused on him. None were unfriendly, as far as he could tell, but none provided him any comfort either. Well, perhaps Mason’s. Megan’s was too amused for his liking.

He cleared his throat and began, “I moved here over the summer. I’ve been through a lot of schools. I like the outdoors. Sometimes I spend entire days outside. And I’ve never had a pet but would probably like a cat.”

His words were met with a resounding silence.

“Sammy...”

He looked back at Felix.

“The last time I heard someone talk like that, I’d just started second grade.”

Scattered snickers met his words. Sam tensed, starting to regret his decision to visit Felix’s table.

“We want the juicy stuff!” Felix continued. “How many chicks you’ve dated, the most illegal thing you’ve ever done, shit like that. Hell, whether you’ve got brothers or sisters. Stuff you’re interested in, like movies. Any new albums you’re excited for?”

That was entirely too many questions at once, though technically speaking, it was just one, so that was what Sam addressed.

“No, I’ve already got the albums I’m interested in.”

Felix nodded lazily. “Mhmm, of course you do. So whataya’ listen to? I don’t really take you for a country kind of guy, but feel free to prove me wrong.”

“Opera.”

The silence was more resounding than ever before. Sam looked to Mason for validation, only to find that he’d buried his face in his hands.

“...Okay, you can _not_ be serious.”

Sam looked back at Felix and raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Felix spluttered. “It’s— It’s opera! Who even listens to that!?” he asked, hands erratically waving around.

“Lots of people,” Sam said, scanning the table again.

No one corroborated his claim.

“You know what, let’s say you’re right,” Felix conceded. “Who doesn’t like a little _Carmen_ now and then? But you make it sound like you’re _exclusively_ an opera guy. What’s up with that?”

“It’s meaningful,” Sam said.

Felix blinked at him.

Sam tried to expound on his point. “The lyrics tell a story. They have emotion. The instruments convey that emotion too. A single song can affect your mood even if you only have a basic idea of what it’s about.”

Felix’s mouth tilted oddly. “And you like having your mood affected?” he asked.

“Sometimes. A lot of opera can be relaxing, or provide adrenaline when you need it.”

“Pretty sure that all applies to other music too.”

“Maybe. But I prefer opera.”

Felix watched him a moment longer, then glanced around the table and laughed, “Guess that’s the real juicy stuff right there: Sam’s a total snob.”

In hindsight, it had been naive of Sam to expect anything from the table but more laughter.

Then someone piped up, “What’s your favorite song?”

He didn’t recognize the voice’s owner, but was fairly certain that she was in drama— one of the newbies, if he remembered correctly. In any case, she seemed genuine enough, so he gave her question some thought.

A favorite opera song? That was the kind of thing that depended on his mood. Or the mood he wanted to be in. Then again, he supposed some moods could be considered better than others. But even among the more positive moods, could he really choose just one? And from that mood, just one song that evoked it? He doubted so.

“...That’s difficult to say.”

The girl nodded in apparent understanding. “Well, you mentioned some giving you adrenaline,” she said. “How about one of those?”

Sam didn’t appreciate having his interests put on the spot, but the table’s occupants had quieted down and a glance in Felix’s direction showed him to be paying rapt attention.

Hmm.

“You mentioned _Carmen_ ,” Sam said to him, then looked back at his impromptu interviewer. “One of its arias has an increasing tempo and crescendo, particularly in the Callas cover, but tends to get overshadowed by _Habanera_ and the _Toreador_ song. That’s understandable, though unfortunate, because—”

“Do you speak Spanish or are you just a nerd about pronunciation too?” Felix interrupted.

Sam turned to him with a frown. “It’s a French opera.”

“Yeah, and I know what French sounds like. That wasn’t it.”

“I’m not going to attempt French pronunciation for your amusement.”

A small smile tugged at Felix’s lips as he eyed Sam. “Then what pronunciation _did_ you attempt?”

“...Spanish...”

“Why didn’t you take Spanish then?” Felix asked, still watching him with a look Sam couldn’t quite place. “Easy grade, way less effort. Can’t imagine your parents would complain about that.”

Sam scanned the faces around him. Most seemed neutral, though a few wore slight frowns, likely confirming his original reasoning.

“I doubt I could get through the class without invoking everyone’s jealousy.”

Again, there were snickers around the table, but Sam found there was something reassuring about them this time. Regardless, Felix didn’t seem to pay them any mind, wholly focused on Sam. It was unnerving in a way that having his attention during drama wasn’t.

Megan’s voice distracted Sam from his thoughts.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she said. “I’m pretty sure I would’ve hated you if you’d been there when I took it.”

“You took Spanish?”

She nodded. “ _Si_.”

“I did too, that year,” Mason commented.

Someone else chimed in that they had as well, and the table’s conversation soon turned to the non-drama electives everyone had once taken. Sam used the opportunity to finally start eating his lunch, but before taking his first bite, paused and glanced at Felix.

His face was angled towards the rest of the table, but his eyes remained on Sam, lips quirked upwards in that small smile.

Sam suppressed a shiver and focused on his lunch.

While he was grateful for Mason’s invitation, nothing short of a miracle would see him return to Felix’s table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam is referring to ['Les tringles des sistres tintaient' from _Carmen_.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51UA2g_GA3U)


	11. Blood In The Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 2, Episode 8](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/41881835).

“—arks. They’re cool. But you don’t really care about being cool, do you?”

Sam frowned, unsure if it was meant as an insult. The student had certainly eyed him while saying it, as if judging Sam’s appearance.

What was it about the drama event that saw him consistently at strangers’ mercy with Felix nowhere in sight?

“You’re not very talkative, are you?” the student asked, leaning back on his hands, eyes still fixed on Sam. “Why is that?”

Knowing no answer at all would be ruder than a blunt one, Sam settled on, “You’re a stranger.”

The student grinned. “Stranger danger, huh?”

Sam nodded.

“Aren’t you a little old for that?”

“People can be strangers at any age,” Sam pointed out.

The student said nothing but continued watching him. Sam shifted in place and glanced around the courtyard again.

Still no sign of Felix.

“You know, people stop being strangers when you get to know them,” remarked the student, finally aiming his eyes somewhere else. “I’ve told you plenty about me, but I don’t know a thing about you. If anything, _you’re_ the stranger.”

Hmm. Sam had to admit that the student had a point.

“I’m Sam,” he blurted, then immediately regretted it.

_Why_ had he done that? Though he didn’t actually think the student posed any real danger, there was no need to give in to his demand for more information.

The student’s eyebrows had gone up, leaving him looking just as surprised as Sam was by the admission. They stared at each other for a moment, then the student grinned again, more subdued than before.

“Alright. If we’re doing names, then I’m—”

“ _Excuse me_ ,” Felix interrupted, reaching out for Sam. “We’ve got places to be.”

Sam let Felix lead him away, but not without looking over his shoulder at the abandoned student. Felix’s pace was brisk, and by the time Sam thought to say goodbye, he would’ve had to yell it across the courtyard, which he wasn’t particularly keen on doing.

He found himself wishing they’d finished their conversation. He’d given the student his name, after all. Getting the student’s name in return was only fair. And courteous.

Leaving so abruptly had been rude, hadn’t it?

He frowned.

 

* * *

 

“ _What the fuck is that guy’s problem?”_ Felix hissed into Sam’s ear before glaring towards the chatty student from earlier.

It hadn’t been very long since their encounter, and in that time, Felix had dragged Sam into spectating one of the few remaining competitions. Now, several performances in, Felix had spotted the student in their midst, shooting looks their way at every available opportunity.

To say Felix was unhappy about the discovery would be an understatement.

Sam tried his best to stay focused on the performances unfolding at the front of the room—a difficult task with Felix muttering beside him—and after a few more of them, the door was opened for anyone who wished to enter or exit before the next round began.

Felix immediately grabbed Sam’s arm and jumped up, leading him out.

Predictably, the student followed.

Felix strode down the hall with Sam in tow, well within the event’s bounds but now afforded a modicum of privacy. Apparently satisfied, Felix whirled around and shoved Sam aside.

“Dude, who the fuck even are you?” he asked the student. “Quit following us.”

“Why do you care? And I’m not following you, I’m following him.”

“So you _are_ being a stalker. Fuck off or—” Felix seemed to realize that his only real option was to call for a teacher’s help, something which was generally frowned upon. In this particular case, with this particular student, it seemed like a recipe for ridicule.

Sure enough, the student crossed his arms and gave Felix one of the smuggest looks Sam had ever seen.

“Or you’ll what?” he asked.

Felix furrowed his brow and gnashed his teeth, but said nothing.

The two of them silently stared each other down, and Sam felt utterly helpless to remedy the situation. He wasn’t even sure what the situation _was_.

“Leave. Us. _Alone_ ,” Felix growled.

The student smirked. “Tell you what. If he tells me to”—he nodded towards Sam—“then I will.”

Sam blinked.

Felix scoffed. “No, you will because _I_ tell you to. Now _fuck off_.”

“Mm, I don’t think so,” replied the student. “Sam, what do you think?”

The student’s smirk turned his way, but lessened into something that could pass for a mere smile. Sam tensed, looking towards Felix, who was still glaring at the student.

“I...” Sam paused. For one single, horrifying moment, he was extremely tempted to go against Felix’s wishes and allow the student to stay. Perhaps Felix’s attitude was getting to him. Even so, he set his irritation aside and said, “I think Felix would prefer that you left.”

“And you?”

“I’d prefer that we didn’t make a scene.”

The student gave a quiet snort and uncrossed his arms. “Alright. I’ll see you around, Sam and Felix,” he said, then gave a final nod Sam’s way and left.

The sounds of the event around them gradually returned to Sam’s awareness, and he took a moment to compose himself before turning back to Felix.

“What an _asshole_ ,” Felix muttered, straightening to his full height.

Sam said nothing.

Felix blindly reached out and grabbed his arm, then led him back to the competition.

 

* * *

 

“Hey. _Pssst_.”

The sky had darkened as the evening wore on, and it took Sam a moment to realize he had company.

“Oh, hi,” Sam said once he spotted the persistent student approaching him.

“Felix left you out here all by yourself? Again?”

Sam frowned. He wasn’t some pet to be ‘left’ here or there, and though he doubted the student meant offense, he couldn’t help but take some all the same.

His patience was wearing thin. Crossing his arms, he asked, “What do you want?”

“You.”

There was a pause.

“...What?”

“You heard me, I want you. The way I see it, we’ve still got a while before they start giving out scores. More than enough time to sneak off somewhere, have a little fun. What do you say?”

Sam had many, many objections, but the only one he managed to voice was, “We can’t sneak around a school we don’t know.”

The student grinned. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said, taking a step closer. “This is my school, and I know _all_ the best hiding places.”

It was ridiculous. The risk of getting into trouble was extremely high, he didn’t even know the student’s _name_ , and he was fairly sure the student only had one thing on his mind.

More ridiculous was the fact that Sam felt tempted yet again. He even pictured it: Following the student to some secluded corner, letting him do as he pleased, then returning to Felix’s side and potentially invoking his ire. If the nature of that ire wasn’t finally revealed as jealousy, Sam couldn’t begin to fathom what it actually was.

In a way, it all boiled down to the morbid fascination that had often spurred him into poking anthills as a child.

Poking, not destroying.

He didn’t want to destroy Felix.

“I can’t.”

The student narrowed his eyes but his grin didn’t waver. “Why not? Worried about making your boyfriend mad? Because that ship sailed a couple hours ago, I think.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sam automatically replied.

“Then what are we waiting for?” the student asked.

He took another step forward, and despite the darkness, it was remarkably easy to see the way his eyes roved over Sam’s body. There was no doubt that it was objectification, but given that Sam had already spent some time feeling objectified by Felix, the action came across as familiar.

Against all reason, he stood his ground even as the student took another step forward, lessening the distance between them to almost nothing.

“ _Dude_. Back the _fuck_ off or you’re gonna regret it.”

Sam almost breathed a sigh of relief at Felix’s return, though not because he’d been uncomfortable.

The student didn’t budge. “What do you care? You’re not even his boyfriend.”

“I’m— Th— What does that have to do with anything!?” Felix spluttered, stepping right up to the student. “I told you, _back off or regret it_.”

“Look, if you want to suck his dick too, that’s your problem. Figure it out on your own time,” the student said.

Sam doubted Felix could do much harm in a fight, but that wouldn’t matter when it came to troublemaking and school suspensions. As such, Sam had to act _fast_.

He scooped Felix up and half-dragged him towards Ms. Green and the rest of their group, paying no mind to his hissing and squirming, nor the uninhibited laughter of the student behind them. For all that Sam’s curiosity would have enjoyed seeing the confrontation unfold, he’d much rather have Felix continue attending school on a regular basis.

Felix grumbled at his side but gradually ceased his squirming.

Sam waited for him to speak.

“...Can you believe that guy wanted to suck your dick?”

“.....”

“You’re a mess, but you’re not _that_ much of a mess. You can do better than him.”

“.....”

“You know that, right? You’re way better.”

“.....”

“.....”

“.....”

“Hey, Sammy?”

“Yes?”

“...Never mind.”

Sam nearly turned around to go take the student up on his offer after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #sharkyforsharkweek


	12. Reciprocity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 1, Episode 10](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/40929713).

“So what, you want me to whore myself out for study sheets?”

Felix’s tone made it clear the suggestion had been a joke—or at least Sam hoped it had—but Sam still reacted as if it hadn’t.

“N- No! Not that kind of effort,” he said.

“Why not?” Felix asked with a grin. “We’ve already established you’ve got a thing for... Well, me, I guess.”

“What?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb.”

“I’m not.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

Sam had no idea what Felix was talking about.

“Fine, be that way. In the meantime, why don’t _you_ just admit that you want me to blow you?”

Sam froze.

“C’mon, there’s only so many reasons to stare at a person’s mouth,” Felix said. “If we’d already had lunch, I might’ve thought something was stuck in my teeth. So fess up: You’d take a blowjob for a study sheet, right?”

It took a few seconds for Sam’s vocal functions to return. “I— No, that’s not— I _was_ staring at your teeth.”

Felix raised an incredulous eyebrow.

“I was! It had nothing to do with— With _that_. I just... I was thinking about teeth.”

“.....”

“.....”

“Sam. Sammy.”

“Yes?”

“How did you make this even weirder?”

Sam wondered how they’d strayed so far from the initial topic.

“Seriously, it’s like your superpower or something.”

Sam said nothing.

Felix crossed his arms and turned to look out the window.

The silence stretched out.

“Well, I still need those study sheets,” Felix said, steadfastly looking outside. “What’s it gonna be?”

Sam was assaulted by images of Felix’s initial offer, one after the other.

Felix’s head swiveled back around, a frown on his lips. Sam remained silent and Felix’s eyes widened.

“Oh, fuck, you’re thinking about it.”

Sam blinked and looked away.

“You _are_. God!” Felix let out a strangled laugh and squirmed in place. “You’re not actually gonna ask for a blowjob though, are you?”

“O- Of course not—”

“Because it’s not a bad deal. There’s worse ways to pass a class.”

Sam was finding it difficult to think of any, too caught up in analyzing Felix’s statement. “What?”

“Just saying.”

The silence that followed was the worst yet, and to Sam’s chagrin, it wasn’t one he could easily escape from, as the crux of their problem had yet to be resolved.

That and the fact that it was his car they were in.

“I’m not going to ask for that,” he finally said. “I’ll think of something else.”

“Will you, now?”

“I will,” Sam insisted, feeling as though he was reassuring himself rather than Felix.

“Hmm. Alright.”

And with that, Felix stepped out of Sam’s car and walked away without a backwards glance.

 

* * *

 

“Speaking of taste,” Felix continued, “I really do appreciate these study sessions. That last interim report was way better than I thought it was gonna be.”

The sentiment was nice to hear, but...

“What does that have to do with taste?” Sam asked.

There was a nearly palpable tension in the ensuing pause.

“I’ve been thinking.”

Sam’s curiosity grew as he waited for Felix to elaborate.

“You need a reward.”

“I do?”

Felix nodded, burrowing further against him. “So my offer still stands: You help me pass history, I blow you.”

Sam felt his gut lurch.

“Just. Y’know. If you want,” Felix said.

“.....”

“Or if you don’t, that’s fine too. Weird, but fine.”

“.....”

“Sheesh. If you don’t want it, just say so.”

Sam swallowed. In all honesty, he’d thought about Felix’s offer more often as the weeks went by. It wasn’t something he’d ever imagined could truly happen, and it was partially that sense of detachment that had him licking his lips and saying, “Alright.”

“‘Alright’?”

“I’m open to that.”

Felix sat up and stared at him, eyes wide. “Wait, seriously? You want me to blow you?”

Immediately, Sam was gripped by the fear that he’d completely misread the situation. He gave a helpless shrug.

“No, dammit, use your words. Do you actually want me to blow you?”

Was having a general curiosity for something the same as wanting it? Sam wasn’t sure, but he desperately hoped that he wasn’t about to ruin their newly established best-friendship.

“...Yes?”

Felix gaped at him.

Sam was on the verge of attempting to play his answer off as a joke when Felix shut his mouth, determination in the set of his eyebrows.

“Alright,” he echoed, snapping his fingers above Sam’s crotch. “Open up.”

Sam faltered, both as a result of Felix’s brusque manner and the realization that several daydreams were about to become a reality.

Felix frowned at his lack of response. “You want me to do the whole thing myself?” he asked, reaching out and plucking the textbook from Sam’s hands, setting it aside. “Whatever, have it your way.”

He started undoing Sam’s pants, muttering under his breath, and Sam made a questioning noise.

“Nothing,” Felix said, pulling down his underwear. “Oh. Wow. Okay.”

Another questioning noise.

Felix waved him off, expression as neutral as Sam had ever seen it. He scooted around inside the tent, accommodating his legs and lowering himself, fingers closing around Sam’s burgeoning erection. It jumped at the touch.

Some rhythmic pumping later, it had fully hardened and begun to leak. Sam was holding back gasps and moans to the best of his ability, still unconvinced that he wasn’t just dreaming.

Felix suddenly chuckled.

“What...?” Sam managed to ask.

“This’ll be the second time I’ve sucked someone off in a tent,” Felix explained.

“Who was th- the first?”

Felix’s hand left him and Sam rolled his hips in desperation.

“Just some guy,” Felix shrugged, then pressed his lips to the tip of Sam’s erection.

“ _Ah!”_

“Don’t tell me you’re already gonna come,” Felix teased, giving him an unimpressed look. “Sure, it’d make my job easier, but this is supposed to be a reward.”

“S- Sorry...”

Felix’s eyebrows shot up. “What for?”

“I... I can’t help it. Not if you keep going.”

They stared at each other, Sam’s heavy breaths filling the silence.

Felix sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, man. Have you never gotten a blowjob before?”

“No.”

Felix regarded him silently, expression unreadable. Sam maintained eye contact, a task made difficult by the conspicuous presence of his erection.

Eventually, Felix sighed. “So much for showing off my skill set. But sure, keep helping me with history and we’ll get to that,” he said, and without further ado, lowered himself again.

There was no time for Sam to prepare. Felix simply took him in hand and enveloped him with his mouth, cheeks hollowing as he sucked, all attempts at teasing gone. Sam’s entire body tensed, the sensation too much, and he was orgasming before he knew it.

His pulse was loud in his ears as the pleasure ebbed away, clothes tight against his heated skin. The feel of Felix’s tongue became uncomfortable but Sam endured it, fascinated by the sight of those lips still around him.

Felix angled his head to look up at Sam, and after a few more seconds, pulled away and wiped off his mouth. “Were you just gonna let me keep on sucking?” he asked.

“Watching you was... Interesting.”

“Yeah?” Felix smirked.

Sam gave a weak nod.

“Good,” Felix said. “Keep things up and I’ll let you watch me some more.”


	13. An Inevitable Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 2, Episode 13](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/42235076).

Felix opened his mouth, closed it, then answered, “For you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah. You don’t wanna go through life not knowing how to kiss, right?” Felix laughed.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “I imagine I’d practice with whoever I was in a relationship with.”

“Geez, ungrateful much? You—”

The bell above the store’s door chimed and Felix immediately jumped back, only to be stopped by the counter behind him.

“Isaac!” greeted the woman who’d just walked in, and Sam had a brief moment of confusion before suddenly understanding.

“H- Hey, Mom.”

“What are you doing?” she asked, lifting up her sunglasses to reveal eyes nearly as dark and piercing as Felix’s. She spared a quick glance towards Sam.

“Nothing,” Felix said. He relaxed against the counter, loose-limbed and casual. “Just talking to Sam. Friend from school.”

Her eyebrows went up and she turned to Sam again. “Hello, Sam,” she said.

“Hi,” he replied, extending a hand.

She shook it, then said, “I’m Isaac’s mother.”

“I’m”—Sam wildly cast around for a safe answer—“a friend from school.”

“So I’ve heard. Isaac, you didn’t say anything about making a new friend.”

Felix shrugged. “Didn’t seem worth mentioning,” he said, shooting Sam what could only be interpreted as a warning look.

“Oh, don’t be silly,” his mother laughed. She returned her attention to Sam. “I haven’t seen you around before. Did you just move here?”

“Last summer,” Sam said.

She made a noise of understanding and nodded. “How are you liking it? Made any friends aside from Isaac?”

“I’ve always liked small towns,” Sam said. “And I’ve made a few other friends.”

“That’s good. What about a girlfriend?”

Sam couldn’t help the way his eyes darted to Felix for a split-second. “N- No.” For good measure, he added, “Not yet.”

Felix’s mother gave him a sympathetic frown. “Well, you better hurry up. Isn’t school over soon? You don’t want to have a boring summer, do you?” she teased.

“Pretty sure a boring summer is Sam’s ideal summer,” Felix interjected, sounding distinctly annoyed. Whether at his mother or her line of questioning, Sam wasn’t sure.

“Then maybe he could teach you a thing or two! I swear, sometimes I have no idea where you get off to,” she said.

Felix pouted but declined to reply.

Her eyes jumped between the two of them before settling on Sam. “Were you going to buy something? Or did you just come in to talk?”

The tone she used was perfectly friendly, but something about the question had Sam worrying that he’d done something wrong, and he floundered for a few seconds.

Felix conveniently answered in his stead. “We have a group project in history,” he said. “Had to make sure we were on the same page.”

“Oh, I see now. Good, it’s about time you started paying attention to your grades,” his mother said, lips quirked up in a smile.

“I always do,” Felix grumbled, but her focus was already back on Sam.

“What about you? How are your grades?”

“Fine, I think,” Sam said, caught off guard.

“Ooh, something giving you trouble?” she asked. “I was never too good at science, personally.”

Sam carefully avoided Felix’s eyes as he admitted, “Algebra’s a little difficult.”

“Oh, I know! All those numbers and things,” she said, then tsked in Felix’s direction. “It’s strange though, Isaac’s always been so good with them. I really wish he helped out here more!”

Felix’s arms were crossed, fingers drumming incessantly.

His mother suddenly turned back to Sam and asked, “So where are you from?”

Sam blinked.

“Mom...” Felix sighed, but she paid him no mind.

“We moved here from North Carolina,” Sam said.

“That’s nice,” Felix’s mother replied. “But where are you _from_ , originally?”

“I was born in Vermont.”

“And your parents?”

“ _Mom_ ,” Felix interrupted. “Sam’s in a hurry, he’s got stuff to do.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. It was nice meeting you,” she told Sam.

“It was nice to meet you too,” he said.

Then, sensing that there was nothing left for him to do but leave, he did exactly that. As the store’s door closed behind him, he faintly heard Felix’s mother making some comment or another, presumably about him.

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
hey you can come back now  
she’s gone

[OUTGOING]  
I’ll drive back.

[INCOMING]  
wtf did you just completely leave?

[OUTGOING]  
Yes. I wasn’t sure when you’d be available again.

[INCOMING]  
where are you?

[OUTGOING]  
My driveway.

[INCOMING]  
omg you went home and you’re coming back

[OUTGOING]  
We were in the middle of something.

 

* * *

 

Sam entered the store apprehensively, as if Felix’s mother was hiding behind one of the shelves, or possibly under the counter. Felix didn’t seem like he’d allow the latter though.

“Welcome back,” Felix said.

“...Yes...”

Felix let out a sigh. “So that was awkward as fuck. You’ve probably got some questions, don’t you?”

“A few,” Sam said with a nod.

“Go on, then.”

“Your name is ‘Isaac’?”

“Pass. Next question.”

Sam frowned. “Are you going to answer any of my questions?”

“Yes. Case in point, this one.”

Sam’s frown deepened, which Felix looked entirely too pleased about. It was clear that he wasn’t really in the mood to answer questions, and there was only one solution for that.

Sam cut to the chase and asked, “If we’re not in a relationship, why are you helping me practice kissing?”

Felix’s eyes widened and darted around, as if he himself was also wary of his mother secretly hiding somewhere. Finally, he suggested, “Isn’t that what friends are for?”

“For kissing?”

“Yeah. You know. Some friends do that.”

“Friends with benefits. Is that what we are?” Sam asked, considering the implications.

“Whoa, wait, I didn’t say anything about all that,” Felix objected, hands waving around. “I just mean that labels don’t matter. We’re really good friends, and really good friends sometimes do stuff together.”

“Such as?”

Felix huffed. “ _Fine_ , you want me to say it?” He leaned forward and beckoned Sam closer.

Sam went.

Felix grabbed Sam’s collar and pulled him even closer, then murmured against his lips, “Don’t you wanna mess around? Have some fun, pop your cherry? I can help with that.”

“Felix...”

“Hmm? Isn’t that something you want? Even _you’ve_ gotta get horny now and then. With me around, you don’t have to be all miserable with nothing but your hand—”

“I’m not miserable with my hand,” Sam said.

Felix pulled away. “Goddammit, Sammy, I’m trying to do you a _favor_ here,” he snapped. “Do you wanna mess around or not?”

It wasn’t the greatest proposition Sam had ever heard, far from it, but it _was_ the greatest proposition he’d ever received.

“Is kissing included in that?” he asked.

A corner of Felix’s mouth twitched in that unplanned way of his. “Yeah, actually.”

Sam nodded. “Then yes.”

Felix’s eyes gleamed as he moved back into Sam’s space. “Good,” he said, then took Sam’s lips in another kiss, one more tender than all the ones before it.

Sam returned it, and hoped it was a sign of things to come.


	14. Inspiration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 2, Episode 20](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/42537131).

As soon as the front door shut, Felix sat up and asked, “Hey, you wanna do something fun?”

“Like what?”

“It’s in my car,” Felix said, hopping off the bed and leaving the room.

Sam followed after him, growing more confused by the second. “What is?”

“You’ll see.”

Felix peeked out the living room windows, and when Sam’s parents were well and truly gone from sight, he rushed out to his car and started rummaging around in it. Bewildered, Sam stood at the door and watched him, then stepped aside once he returned, holding what seemed to be a rolled-up magazine.

Sam shut the door behind them and asked, “What’s that?”

“Porn!” Felix gleefully announced, unrolling the magazine to show Sam that it was indeed porn. He grabbed Sam’s arm and started tugging him to the bedroom. “C’mon, I wanna show you the best ones, maybe we’ll get some ideas.”

Dumbfounded, Sam could only let himself be dragged along.

“You’ve seen porn before, haven’t you?” Felix asked, hopping back onto the bed. He patted a spot and smiled invitingly at Sam.

“...Yes...”

“Yeah? You have any?”

Sam shut the door to his room and carefully sat on the spot Felix had indicated. “No,” he said, watching Felix flip through the magazine.

“Never jerked off to any?”

Sam remembered the way he used to masturbate. It had been aimless, tedious. More often than not, he’d seen it as a necessity rather than a luxury. At some point, he’d turned to thoughts of Felix during the process, and just like that, masturbation had become a welcome activity.

But that didn’t count as porn, did it?

He shook his head.

Felix tsked. “I swear, the day you stop being weird is the day I fucking apologize to Mason,” he said, then frowned down at where they both sat. “Scoot up, I wanna cuddle.”

It took Sam a moment to register the change in topic, but then he slid up to the headboard and set his pillow against it. As soon as he settled down, Felix was there, relaxing into his side.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Felix said, drawing his knees up and setting the magazine against them.

Sam apprehensively watched him open it.

 

* * *

 

Twenty pages and probably just as many minutes later, Sam had a considerably better idea of what most women’s genitalia looked like.

Felix commented on nearly every page, pointing out his favorite photos. On pages taken up by a single large photo, he’d give an approximation of how many times he’d pleasured himself to it.

“Now, this one made me think of you,” he said, pointing to a photo of a woman on her hands and knees, penetrated by a man kneeling behind her. “See the way he’s pulling her ponytail? I could do that to you.”

Sam tried to imagine it: Him, on his hands and knees, head pulled back as Felix thrust into him.

He swallowed.

“Wouldn’t it be great?” Felix asked with a grin. “We should try.”

Unsure what to say, Sam hummed noncommittally.

Felix gave an answering hum, then said, “Right now.”

“...What?”

“Let’s fuck like that right now,” Felix repeated, then leaned in and kissed him.

Sam returned it, operating on instinct, but then pulled away. “We don’t have time for that.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Sure we do. Your mom said she probably wouldn’t be back until I was gone, right?”

“You’re supposed to be gone soon. An hour, at most,” Sam said.

“Exactly, that’s more than enough,” Felix said, then pressed their lips together again, effectively putting an end to Sam’s objections.

Distantly, a part of Sam’s mind considered the fact that time seemed to fly during his and Felix’s sexual encounters, but that part of his mind was quickly forgotten about.

Felix licked into his mouth and reached for his pants, expertly unfastening them before commenting, “I’ve got an idea.”

Sam squinted.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, it’s a good idea,” Felix said, sitting up and scooting down the bed. “If you’re so worried about your parents coming back, then let’s keep our clothes on. Just pull down your pants and we’re set.”

It wasn’t a bad plan. In fact, Sam was surprised by its practicality.

Not having sex at all would be even more practical, but that ship had sailed long ago.

“Alright,” Sam said, and shuffled in place until he’d pulled down his pants and underwear.

Felix radiated triumph. “Now turn over,” he prompted, undoing his own pants.

Sam did, imitating the position from the magazine, and looked back at Felix. His erection was free, and he pulled a familiar tube from his pocket.

“Ready?” he asked, already unscrewing the cap.

“Wait,” Sam said.

Felix raised an eyebrow.

“Before, you... Could you go slower?”

Felix gave him an incredulous look. “Sammy, _you’re_ the one worrying about your parents coming back,” he pointed out.

“I don’t mean in general,” Sam said, trying to put his concerns as tactfully as possible. “Last time, when you pushed in, it hurt.”

“Well... Yeah. Isn’t it better to get all the pain over with?”

Sam supposed that was true, but he dreaded the thought of repeating their prior attempt. “Maybe. Could we still try?”

Felix sighed. “Sure, I guess, but I don’t think slowly shoving my dick in you is gonna feel that much better,” he said, unscrewing the tube’s cap the rest of the way.

“You could start with something smaller,” Sam suggested, thinking through the logistics of elasticity.

“Like what? I don’t exactly have a second dick hidden away.”

Sam glanced around at his room’s contents, but found that nothing seemed particularly conducive to his goal. Felix only offered a shrug.

With a frown, Sam faced forward and resigned himself to his fate. “I don’t know,” he said.

Felix was silent, and after a few seconds, Sam heard the slick sound of him coating his erection in gel. Sam braced himself, preparing for the pain, but it never came.

“Wait,” Felix interrupted this time. “What if...?”

Sam made a questioning noise, refusing to latch onto false hope.

“I could— Not that I want to, mind you, but I could use my fingers,” Felix said.

There was a pause.

“I mean, they’ve already got gel all over them,” Felix went on. “Like I said, I don’t exactly want to shove my hand up your ass, but...”

Sam thought about it. Yes, it was strange, but if there was any chance it’d lessen the pain he’d been preparing himself for, he’d take it. “Fine,” he said.

There was another pause, then a wetness brushed against him and he gave a start. Again, the wetness brushed against him, and suddenly it was pushing, stretching him open around it. There was no pain, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“This is so fucking weird,” Felix muttered as he worked his finger in. “Kinda gross too.”

Sam frowned and peered at Felix over his shoulder. “What? You put your— You put _that_ in me, but your fingers are a problem?”

“My what?” Felix asked, amusement loud and clear. There was a slight burn, presumably because he’d pushed a second finger in.

“Your... That,” Sam said. “I don’t know what you want me to call it.”

“What do _you_ want to call it?”

“I told you, I thought you’d call it a cock,” Sam said, wincing when Felix brusquely pulled his fingers out.

“Do _you_ wanna call it that?”

Sam craned his neck to catch sight of Felix. “I don’t know,” he huffed. “I don’t see why not.”

“Then ask for it,” Felix said. He rubbed himself over Sam’s loosened opening, making no effort to push in. “Ask for my cock.”

“Put your cock in me.”

Felix groaned exasperatedly. “ _Sammy_ ,” he whined. “You’re supposed to make it sound sexy.”

“You know I’ve got a ‘murder voice’,” Sam reminded.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t beg. You sure did last week. You were fucking _desperate_ ,” Felix said, lightly rolling his hips against Sam’s.

“Put your cock in me, _please_.”

There was a pause, and then Felix’s hand smacked his rear. Sam jumped, more out of surprise than anything else. He twisted his head around and blinked at Felix.

“Try again,” Felix said.

“Please put your cock in me?”

Another smack, slightly harder than the last. “Rearranging words is not the way to go,” Felix teased. He lazily rocked against Sam. “Better hurry up, or I’ll just come without even fucking you.”

“Y- Your cock... Please?”

 _Smack_. “Beg,” Felix repeated.

“Please, I need your cock.”

“ _Come on_ , no one’s home, let me hear you use those projecting skills I taught you!”

“ _Please, I need your c—!”_

Felix’s fingers had _not_ been enough to significantly diminish the pain that came with his sudden thrust into Sam’s body. There was a faint taste of blood on Sam’s tongue where he’d bitten it, but despite all that, he found himself relieved that the difficult part was over.

“You ready, Sammy?”

Sam took a deep breath, then another, and carefully squeezed around Felix’s cock. As painful as it all was, a furl of pleasure was already unraveling somewhere deep in his body, and so he gave a stilted nod.

Instantly, one of Felix’s hands pulled at his ponytail. The other moved to clutch his hip, and then Felix began moving.

Each thrust had Felix’s hips slamming against Sam’s backside in a way unlike their previous tryst. Felix had more space to move in, and Sam had more of himself to give— it may have been his imagination, but Felix’s cock seemed to reach much deeper than it had before.

“F- Fe- Felix—” It shouldn’t have surprised him that it was difficult to talk with his head pulled back and a cock driving into him, but he’d never had reason to consider the mechanics of it until now. “Th- This isn’t... S- Slow, is it?”

Felix laughed. “I thought you wanted to finish up before your parents got back,” he said, digging his fingers into Sam’s hip as he sped up his thrusting. “Or did you change your mind?”

“N- No, I—”

“You just wanna complain?”

“...No...”

“Then what is it, Sammy? Too much for you? Can’t handle it?”

“I can, I—”

Sam was interrupted by the telltale noises of his parents returning, and then by Felix letting go of his hair to shove him down on his stomach.

“ _Shh!_ Just stay quiet and we’ll finish soon,” Felix hissed into his ear, then resumed thrusting.

Given their newfound position, it was actually more akin to rutting than thrusting.

Sam clumsily grabbed at his pillow, dragging it closer and burying his face in it. He still wasn’t sure exactly how noisy he was during sex, but he wasn’t about to take his chances on staying quiet while his parents were in the vicinity.

Felix’s movements had degraded into uneven grinding, and when Sam’s mother called out, announcing her and his father’s return, Sam yanked his head up to answer with a garbled, “Okay...”

“Shit, Sammy, that was _not_ subtle,” Felix unhelpfully commented.

Sam made the mistake of attempting to reply just as Felix’s cock perfectly nudged into him, and it was all he could do to shove his face back into the pillow.

Felix’s laugh was quiet and breathy, which somehow managed to strengthen Sam’s arousal. He gave an involuntary clench around Felix’s cock, heard a sharp gasp, and then felt liquid warmth fill him up.

Sam moaned at the realization of what that sensation meant, then moaned again as his own pleasure reached its peak. His hips rolled, trapped between Felix’s and the bed, and after a few more seconds, it was over.

He was left exhausted and weak, with only a mess of cum to show for it.

“Mm, Sammy,” Felix murmured, nuzzling at his hair. “Just so you know, that pillow trick? Didn’t really work.”

“ _Please_ stop talking.”


	15. Pragmatic, Not Petty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 2, Episode 14](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/42235100).

Sam blinked, quickly considering his options.

He hadn’t planned on going to prom in the first place, and certainly not with Julie. The fact that Felix was mere feet away, expression rapidly contorting into a glare, was yet another reason for Sam to turn her down.

But in spite of all that, some small, contradictory part of Sam’s mind insisted on pointing out the obvious: Felix had been ignoring him.

Annoyance pushed Sam to consider the alternative— that a bit of distance might do their stumbling relationship some good. That was the only reason he even considered Julie’s invitation; simple pragmatism. There was no pettiness involved in his consideration, and there was absolutely no pettiness involved in his eventual answer.

“...When?”

Julie’s eyes widened and her mouth fell slightly open. After a few stuttering attempts, she replied, “It’s next Saturday.”

“I meant when did you want to go,” Sam said. “What time?”

“Oh! Uh, I guess around when it starts? Seven, eight?”

Sam nodded, carefully avoiding looking Felix’s way. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”

Several seconds went by with the three of them rooted in place.

It was Julie who finally broke the moment by taking a step back, still wide-eyed. “Okay, then,” she said, voice breathy. “Um. Thanks, Sam.”

Immediately, she scurried away down the hall, leaving Sam with no choice but to meet Felix’s glare.

Hmm. Maybe creating some distance hadn’t been the best of ideas.

“ _What_ ”—Felix took a step towards him—“ _the fuck_ ”—another step—“ _was that?”_

Sam maintained eye contact, crowded against the wall as he was. “We are _in public_ ,” he whispered lowly, practically mouthing the words. “Isn’t that what you’ve been upset with me for?”

“Answer my _fucking question_ , Sammy.”

Warily, Sam tracked the people walking past them, meeting more than a few curious glances in the process. “Can we get out of here first?” he asked, wondering if he’d have to shove his way past Felix to do so.

Felix narrowed his eyes.

Sam clutched his bag tight and began inching to the side.

“... _Fine_ ,” Felix growled, turning away and stalking off, apparently confident that Sam would follow despite heading in the opposite direction of the gym.

Sam followed.

It took several minutes for them to reach the hall outside the library, during which time the bell rang, signalling their lateness. To Sam, the sound felt like a sentencing, proof of his declining academic performance. Ever since he’d elected to focus on trivial matters of the sort found in many a teen-focused story, his ability to focus on school had taken a blow.

What did it matter if he went to prom, or with who? He was a student on the verge of graduating!

“Answer my question,” Felix repeated, looking somewhat calmer but still displeased.

“I need to focus on school.”

“...What?”

“I’ve been distracted,” Sam said with a frown. “I haven’t been paying attention in class, and now I’m late. I should be focusing on graduating instead of this.”

Felix’s look was incredulous. “By going to _prom?”_

Well, when he put it like that...

“That was an unfortunate decision.”

“You fucking think?”

“But one that seemed necessary,” Sam added, crossing his arms.

Felix mirrored him and asked, “How come?”

“You’ve been ignoring me. I was tired of it.”

“So what, you’re gonna cheat on me?”

Sam froze, and across from him, Felix did too.

“‘Cheat’?”

Felix’s fingers clenched and his eyes darted around. “I mean, y’know. You’re acting like you’re trying to make me jealous or something,” he said.

“I am?”

“Yeah...?” Felix shrugged.

There was a pause, and then Sam asked the only question that came to mind.

“Is it working?”

It was gradual enough for Sam to be acutely aware of it as it happened— Felix’s face reddened and his lips pressed together, his glare doing nothing to obfuscate either of those changes. He looked one excuse away from exploding into some sort of rant, and frankly, Sam was deathly curious to know what the subject of that rant would be.

So he provided the only excuse Felix ever needed.

He said nothing.

Felix turned his glare away, drummed his fingers, glanced back at Sam, then finally relented.

“Okay, _fine_. Yes, it’s fucking working! I’d have to be a goddamn _machine_ for it _not to_. I kinda called dibs on you, remember? Of course I’m gonna get pissed—and yeah, ‘jealous’—when you go and ditch me _right in front of me_.”

“Says the person who’s spent most of the week ignoring me,” Sam pointed out.

“ _I didn’t ask anyone to prom in front of you!”_

“Technically, neither did I.”

Felix’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, _wow_. You’re ready to go full-bitch on this, aren’t you?” he asked, cocking his hip with a huff. “But sure, let’s say you’re right. You didn’t ask anyone, you just waited for someone to ask you and then you said yes. _My mistake_.”

“It’s not—” Sam cut himself off with a sigh. “It wasn’t my intention to upset you, and I’m sorry that I did. I only wanted to get your attention.”

Felix’s frown remained in place, but he held his tongue, so Sam went on.

“I’m also sorry you were upset you that I told Mason about us. I’m not sorry that I told him. He’s my friend and I trust him. I just wish it hadn’t bothered you.”

“That’s your idea of an apology?” Felix asked.

Sam offered a vague shrug. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Other than accepting Julie’s prom invitation, I suppose.”

“A-ha! So you _do_ know that was fucked up,” Felix crowed victoriously.

“Somewhat, yes.”

Felix nodded to himself, looking more pleased than he had their entire conversation. “Alright, that’s progress. You telling Mason without asking me was fucked up too, but I’ll take what I can get,” he said.

Sam tilted his head, but before he could ask for an explanation, Felix put his current situation into perspective.

“You, on the other hand, now have a prom to go to. Unless you’re planning on ditching Julie?”

“No. I said I’d go, so I will.”

“You’re gonna make her one happy girl,” Felix said. “Maybe she’ll finally put the moves on you.”

Sam grimaced and Felix laughed.

“ _Relax_. She might be desperate, but if she was _that_ desperate, she wouldn’t have waited until prom to try her chances. Besides, you don’t think I’d leave you unsupervised on a night like that?”

“What?”

Felix’s lips pulled back in a grin. “Oh, no fucking way am I letting you have all the fun,” he said, lightly poking Sam’s chest. “I’m coming with, and I’m _definitely_ gonna be keeping an eye on little Miss Juliet.”

It wasn’t quite what Sam had envisioned when he’d made his ill-advised decision, but it was a step up from what had led him to make it. Their temporary falling out seemed to be resolved, leaving Sam content but for a single question.

“So,” Sam started, aiming for casual. “You called dibs on me?”


	16. Breaking News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 1, Episode 16](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/41236076).

“Also, we’ll be having a guest— Oh, here he is,” Felix said, looking towards the sound of an opening auditorium door.

Sam turned in his seat, along with the rest of his peers, and took in the sight of the entering student.

He didn’t seem familiar, but Sam occasionally had a difficult time even recognizing people he shared classes with. In addition, there was nothing noteworthy about the student’s appearance, further dooming him to obscurity in Sam’s mind.

“Uh, hi,” the student greeted them all with a wave.

No one answered.

Felix spoke up again, “Everyone, this is our guest from the Journalism Club. He’s gonna be going around taking photos of us. He’s also gonna be interviewing a couple of you. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” the student confirmed, approaching the stage and reaching for its edge.

Awkwardly, everyone watched as he attempted to clamber onto it, evidently unaware of the perfectly functioning stairs on either side. There were some stifled giggles and a few coughs, but finally, the student made it onto the stage through sheer determination.

Felix took a step away, looking distinctly nonplussed.

The student brushed off his clothes and turned to address them, apparently taking the past minute in stride. Sam listened curiously as he explained his presence in further detail.

According to him, he’d been entrusted with acquiring material for the school’s yearbook, and that included quotations from student interviews. The way he put it, answering his questions would be in their best interests. The better the answer, the higher the chance of getting quoted in the yearbook, ensuring the quotee’s posterity.

Sam didn’t think having one’s ramblings preserved in the pages of a high school yearbook was much of an incentive, and judging by some of the grimaces he spotted, he wasn’t alone.

Eventually, the student wrapped up his speech and Felix ordered them all backstage.

As soon as everyone else had gotten to work on finding props and costumes, Felix shifted his focus to Sam and Julie and asked, “Can you _believe_ that guy? Fucking hell.” He gave a quick snort. “Anyway, let’s get started. I wanna—”

“Um, hey, excuse me,” the student interrupted, seemingly materializing out of nowhere. “You’re in charge of this whole thing, aren’t you?”

Felix blinked at him. “Yeah...?”

“Great, I’ve got some questions for you,” the student said as he pulled out some sort of voice recorder, brandishing it between them.

Felix blinked again. He glanced at Sam and Julie, then let a grin spread across his face.

“Ask away.”

 

* * *

 

Sam and Julie spent the next twenty minutes sifting through various props and outfits, utterly clueless as to what Felix had envisioned for their scene.

It came as a relief when he returned backstage, strutting along with his head held high. The student straggled behind him, sporting a frown and furrowed brow. Sam was ready to bet the student had severely underestimated Felix’s drive to indulge his own ego.

“Alright!” Felix said, clapping his hands together. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s see what you two—”

“Actually,” the student interrupted once more, “I’ve got some questions for you guys now.”

He eyed Sam and Julie expectantly.

“What!? No! You already took up like half our class time, let me do my directing thing,” Felix said.

The student gave the impression of very valiantly suppressing an eye roll. “Trust me, I don’t think either of them will take half the time you did,” he muttered.

Felix crossed his arms. “You know what? Fine. Take Julie.”

Julie’s eyes widened, but she moved to step forward just as the student said, “Nah. I want the other one.”

“Dude! I just told you which one you could have,” Felix protested. “We’ve barely got any class time left as it is, so quit messing this up!”

“Would you rather rehearse or waste your time arguing about this?” the student asked, raising his eyebrows.

When Felix didn’t answer, the student shot Sam a look before starting to walk away. “C’mon,” he called over his shoulder.

Sam turned to Felix for permission, and upon receiving it in the form of a stilted head jerk, followed the student out to the stage.

“Phew, finally, some peace and quiet,” the student said, facing Sam. “He _really_ loves to hear himself talk, doesn’t he?”

“It seems that way,” Sam replied.

The student nodded. “Well, I mostly asked for you to piss him off, but I _am_ curious why he was so against that,” he explained, pulling out his recorder and flicking it on. “Have you got any dirt on him, any beans to spill?”

Sam wondered what ‘dirt’ a yearbook interviewer could possibly be after. For that matter, what kind of people did Journalism Club even appeal to?

“I don’t have anything bad to say about him that he hasn’t already said himself,” Sam said, crossing his arms. He had no intention of exposing his newly acquired best friend’s faults, much less to an intrusive stranger.

“Oh, come on,” the student said, wearing a small frown. “He’s been in charge of your class since the start of the year. You can’t tell me he was always perfect.”

Sam thought about it, and little by little, realized he didn’t have very many objections to Felix’s early lectures at all. He’d been insufferable, yes, but that was simply how Felix was, and therefore had no bearing on his actual capabilities as a teacher.

“He’s a good teacher,” Sam said.

The student gave an impatient huff and pushed the recorder closer to Sam. “Okay, then what’s he like outside of class? Do you share any other classes with him? Does he take advantage of that?”

“Of what?”

“Being your teacher.”

“No...”

“Goddamn, man, give me something to work with here,” the student grumbled.

“Don’t you have a list of approved questions?” Sam asked.

The student stared Sam down, as if silently pushing him to cooperate. Instead, Sam stared right back, and a few seconds passed unproductively.

At last, the student relented, pulling a crumpled sheet from his pocket.

 

* * *

 

The student attended drama the rest of the week.

Sam dedicated himself to performing as best he could, but still caught glimpses of the student in the auditorium’s darkness, scribbling notes throughout their scenes. Judging by the number of empty seats between them, he and Felix had developed some kind of mutual disdain.

“What the fuck is he even taking notes on?” Felix asked on their way to the gym.

Sam tilted his head. “You haven’t asked?”

“Fuck no, I don’t wanna talk to that asshole any more than I’ve gotta.”

“Unless it’s about yourself?”

Felix’s head whipped towards him, mouth falling slightly open. “Ooh, _bitchy!_ I _like_ it,” he smirked.

Sam allowed himself a smile.

 

* * *

 

“One other thing,” Felix said, face darkening. “Our friend from last time should be arriving pretty soon.”

With enviable dramatic timing, one of the auditorium doors creaked open and everyone turned to look at their new arrival. It took Sam a minute, but once the student was clearly in view, there was no mistaking his awkward grin or handy voice recorder.

“Hi, again,” the student greeted, coming to a stop in front of the stage. Thankfully, he didn’t attempt to climb it this time. “I’m gonna be interviewing some more of you and finishing up the yearbook’s drama section, so make sure you give me good answers if you want to show up in it!”

Felix caught Sam’s eye and, ever so carefully, let a hint of despair show in his expression.

Sam found himself mirroring it.

 

* * *

 

True to his word, the student wandered around the auditorium, interviewing various people, but kept a wide berth of Felix all the while.

“For fuck’s sake, he better not stay the whole week again,” Felix muttered to Sam.

Unfortunately for him, the student continued showing up the rest of the week. Sam was sure the only reason Felix didn’t file a formal complaint was because they still had a couple weeks left to polish everything.

For the most part, things progressed smoothly, with the student only briefly approaching Sam to ask about his role. On Friday, however, the student approached him again.

“Just the standard questions,” he assured, evidently sensing Felix’s impending objection. “Won’t even take five minutes.”

Felix nevertheless seemed on the verge of protesting, so Sam spoke up.

“I’ll go.”

“Wh— _Sam!”_

“Standing here arguing about it will take longer. If he hasn’t finished in five minutes, I’ll come back,” Sam said.

Felix frowned, crossed his arms, and sighed. “Fine.”

Sam nodded and started walking away, following the student.

“But I better get an interview too!” Felix suddenly called after them.

“Yeah, yeah,” the student grumbled back. Then, low enough that only Sam could hear, added, “Fucking drama queen.”

Sam was willing to defend Felix against many accusations, but that was not one of them.

The student led him past rows of auditorium seats, choosing one a fair distance away from the hustle and bustle of rehearsal. As soon as Sam sat down, the recorder was inches from his face.

“Remind me, what was your name?” the student asked.

“Sam.”

“Oh, right. So, before we get started on all that other stuff, what’s the deal with you and Felix?”

Sam blinked. Caught off guard and at a loss for what to say, he simply pointed out, “You remembered _his_ name.”

The student rolled his eyes and nodded impatiently. “Everyone keeps mentioning him, but even if they didn’t, he didn’t exactly make it easy to forget.”

Sam just barely held back his amusement.

“So what’s the deal?” the student repeated. “You two seem a lot closer than last time, and you were pretty close last time. Are the rumors true?”

“...Rumors?”

“Yeah. Loads of people are talking about you. Haven’t you heard?”

Sam shook his head.

“Oh, man, I don’t know if I should be the one to break it to you, then,” the student said.

Annoyance had Sam’s face hardening into a glare. Consequently, the student sat up a little straighter started blabbering.

“W- Well, they’re just rumors, you know? People saying they heard it from friends of people who actually saw it—”

“Saw what?”

“Uh. Like. You two are always hanging out, yeah?”

Sam squinted. “Why would that be a rumor? Everyone can see that.”

“No, that’s why everyone _believes_ it when they hear about you two sucking face behind the gym.”

“.....”

“So is it true?” the student prompted, holding the recorder like a weapon.

Unsure how to reply, Sam stayed silent. Felix had consistently emphasized the importance of discretion where their evolving relationship was concerned, and though Sam hadn’t originally cared as much, the philosophy had since become ingrained in his mind.

The student wiggled the recorder and said, “You can’t stay quiet forever. I joined Journalism Club to get a scoop, and since it’s almost the end of the year, I guess this is it. It won’t go in the yearbook, but... There’s other ways to break a story.”

Sam panicked.

“I have to get Felix,” was all he said, then he pushed his way past the student and to the aisle.

He quickly strode backstage, faintly aware of the student calling—and following—after him. The moment he caught sight of Felix, he breathed a sigh of relief and hurried over.

“About time,” Felix said, grinning at him. “Is it my turn n—?”

“He knows,” Sam interrupted, talking over the pounding of blood in his ears. “About the— The—” Helplessly, he pointed a shaky finger back and forth between them.

Felix’s grin faded, only to be replaced by a decidedly less troubled look than Sam had been expecting. “Oh, goddammit,” he muttered, leaning over to look around Sam at the approaching student. “It’s too fucking early for this. Wait here, run lines with Julie or something.”

And with that, Felix walked off towards the student, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and leading him back the way he came.

 

* * *

 

“What did you tell him?”

“What he needed to hear.”

 

* * *

 

**FUN ON THE STAGE**

**“** ** _It’s a party more than a class!”_ —** **Ms. Green**

**New year, new teacher, new plays. The show must go on! Ms. Green’s students started off in the classroom and ended up onstage. Let’s see how they got there...**

**“** ** _Improv was really fun and [...] taught us so much.”_ —** **Julie Newman**

 **“** ** _I just wanted an easy grade, but this was pretty cool.”_ —** **Brad Jones**

**Halfway through the year, everyone had to split up into directors and actors. How did that go?**

**“** ** _We all knew what to do. Ms. Green [...] was [...] a great teacher.”_ —** **Kayla Mays**

 **“** ** _It seemed pretty ambitious, but my group had a wonderful director.”_ —** **Mason Wu**

**To finish the year off, the drama class put their own spin on Shakespeare. Break a leg!**

**“** ** _This year was awesome. I [...] and I found my Romeo.”_ —** **Isaac Gates**

 **“** ** _I’m Romeo.”_ ** **— S** **amuel Ortez**

 

* * *

 

“...Ugh.”

Sam looked up curiously.

Felix narrowed his eyes and jabbed a finger at the page, right where his name was. “Guess it can’t be helped, but... Ugh.”

Sam looked down at the name, thought about it, then looked back up. “That’s what you’re upset about?” he asked, utterly perplexed. “Not the... Journalistic integrity?”

Felix shrugged. “Nah. I told him to go ahead and put that in.”

“You told him?”

“Yeah, I figured it was better than waiting to see how else he might ‘break the story’. Besides,” Felix nodded his head towards a group of people who hurriedly looked away, “I’m pretty sure everyone knows after today’s improv scene anyway.”


	17. Practice Makes Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Hiatus, Part 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/41447882).

“Do you think you could skip school tomorrow?”

Sam put down the volume of _Cardcaptor Sakura_ he was rereading and gave his father a curious look. “Maybe. Why?”

“I was thinking that you could help me get a good anniversary gift for your mom,” his father said, lowering his voice to something resembling a whisper. “I know it’s not for another couple of weeks, but I don’t want to do it too late. You always have to plan things in advance.”

A smile tugged at Sam’s lips. He wasn’t overly fond of missing school, but the likelihood that anything terribly important would be covered on the first day back from winter break was slim.

“Do you have something in mind?” he asked, lowering his voice to an actual whisper.

His father nodded excitedly.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Sam went to school.

He attended algebra, for which he was glad, since the teacher began covering the next unit with hardly any preamble. As the class drew to a close, a call from the office confirmed what Sam already knew: His father had come to pick him up.

They left Sam’s car in the school’s parking lot and began the drive towards the nearest mall. Given that it was a whole hour away, the two of them had plenty of time to talk. Sam recounted his most entertaining memories of drama, and his father reciprocated by sharing similar anecdotes of his own.

Though Sam had heard many of them before, he didn’t see the point in saying so.

The conversation shifted through a variety of topics, and before Sam knew it, they were in a city he’d never been in, walking into the echoing halls of a moderately populated mall. After a bit of trial and error, they found the mall’s directory and resolved to head towards one of the more reputable stores, intent on surveying its selection of furniture.

It wasn’t that they specifically wanted to get furniture, but it seemed like a decent start.

Once inside the store, they split up, taking note of all the best gift possibilities. As for Sam, he found an elegant couch with minimal embellishing and a sturdy frame. He also found a table lamp with an interesting aesthetic, eye-catching without being distracting.

And yet, his favorite candidate wasn’t furniture at all, but a watch.

It was simple in its design, with a practical band and a clearly legible face. However, what initially drew his attention to it was the coloring; most of it was unremarkable, a dark tone that easily blended into most surroundings. Its only contrast was the rich green marking the edges, separating the hands and numbers from the darkness surrounding them.

He aimlessly wandered the aisles for a while, mentally juggling the three candidates.

It took him entirely too long to realize the obvious— the watch was his favorite, which was precisely why it wasn’t a good candidate. His assessment of it wasn’t objective.

That left the couch and lamp.

He wasn’t certain either of those were even worth considering. After all, he was the one who noticed them, and he’d just finished discarding a candidate purely for appealing to him the most. Who was to say that any candidates he picked out were worth considering? For that matter, who was to say that this was the right store for candidates? There was an entire mall they’d yet to look through, with a vast array of items fit to be anniversary gifts.

He chose the couch.

It wasn’t difficult to find his father afterwards, and the two of them discussed what had caught their attention. Sam only pointed out the couch and his father only pointed out an intricate ceramic pot, meant to house an indoor plant.

The prospect of an indoor plant was highly appealing to Sam, so he campaigned for the couch.

Some intense debating later, the matter was settled. Sam’s father tracked down a store employee and made arrangements for the couch’s delivery, and then the day’s mission was officially over.

“Do you want to look around more before we go?” his father asked. “It’s still early, and I saw a couple of interesting stores. And you? Do you want to see if there’s something you like? Maybe... Some _Sailor Moon_ books?”

Sam smiled. “Alright.”

They agreed to meet at the food court in an hour, then left the store and went their separate ways.

 

* * *

 

Half an hour passed and Sam was growing bored.

While he did manage to find a few stores with items that called to him, they weren’t enough to keep him entertained. In most cases, he already owned the items in question, and in the cases he didn’t, standing around lamenting that fact wasn’t very entertaining.

As such, he decided to start heading towards the food court, even if it was too early. With any luck, his father was in a similar situation, though he doubted it.

The instant he left the store, his eyes fell on a familiar face.

He might have thought it nothing more than an uncanny resemblance if not for the way the face’s eyes widened in recognition and—dare he say it—a hint of panic.

“Felix?”

Immediately, the thing he’d been doing a remarkably good job of forgetting jumped back to the forefront of his mind: Megan’s party and all that it entailed, Felix accidentally brushing his erection included.

Only this wasn’t Felix, was it?

“Sammy?”

Or maybe it was.

He looked nothing like himself though. His clothes, his hair, his _face_. Makeup adorned his features, lengthening his eyelashes and emphasizing his lips. The long hair that curtained his face matched his natural color remarkably well, and his clothes added yet another layer of difference by way of a plain hoodie and some formfitting jeans.

There was nothing remarkable about the hoodie itself, but since Felix had never worn anything like it before, it stood out as odd. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, leaving his forearms exposed, and his hands were tucked away in the hoodie’s front pocket.

Felix’s jeans also caught Sam’s attention, simply because of how strangely they fit. Sam couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Or maybe it wasn’t the jeans at all, but the way Felix was standing. It would make sense, given that he was also wearing knee-high heeled boots.

Sam opened his mouth. Closed it, opened it again. “You’re not in school,” he said.

“ _Neither are you_ ,” Felix replied, only it wasn’t his voice anymore; it was soft and lilting, a mixture between the practiced tones of a flight attendant and the manufactured relatability of an advertiser.

It was, in short, _extremely_ disconcerting.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked, only for Felix to cast a wide-eyed look around and close in on him.

“Shh! I’ll explain, just not here,” he chided in his regular voice, quiet enough that only Sam could hear. He took a step back and hooked an arm through one of Sam’s. “Now play along.”

“Play along...?”

Felix nodded and changed his voice again. “ _Walk with me_. _I don’t want people thinking I’m unpopular or something_ ,” he said as he began walking, dragging Sam by his arm.

“Why would they think that?” Sam asked, barely keeping track of the conversation.

“ _Trust me, I know these things_ ,” Felix replied, steps confident. “ _If a guy and a girl are hanging out and it’s just the two of them, assuming neither of them are wildly unpopular, chances are they’ll end up nice and cozy_.”

He gave Sam’s arm a small squeeze, as if to illustrate his point, and Sam frowned. The logic didn’t seem sound, and Sam didn’t hesitate to say so.

“What about Megan and Mason?” he asked, naming the first example that came to mind and inadvertently reminding himself of the party’s events once more.

Felix rolled his eyes, an action which was infinitely more noticeable now that he wore makeup. “ _That’s because Meg and Mace are basically an old married couple_. _Those don’t count_. _I’m talking about guys and girls who haven’t been dating for literal years_. _Weeks, tops_. _Ideally less_. _Or not even dating_. _About to date_ ,” he said.

Sam looked down at their linked arms and thought about Felix’s fingers against his erection.

“Are we about to date?”

To Felix’s credit, his only reaction appeared to be a clenched jaw. He otherwise maintained his relaxed stroll and kept facing ahead. “ _Oh, come on, Sammy_. _You know a girl’s got to play hard to get_ ,” he breathed, evidently trying to emulate a laugh but not quite succeeding.

Whether that was due to the subject at hand or a lack of practicing high-pitched laughter, Sam couldn’t say. Speaking of which...

“Why are you a girl?”

Felix fixed him with a glare. “ _Excuse you_.”

“You said you’d explain,” Sam reminded.

“ _I did_ ,” Felix said. “ _Fine, but don’t make your questions so obvious_.”

Sam nodded and racked his mind for an acceptable question. “Why are you dressed that way?” he tried.

“ _Do you like it?”_

“It’s interesting.”

An amused huff left Felix. “ _I guess that’s about as much as I’m getting out of you, right?”_

“Maybe so.”

“ _Well_...” Felix brought them to a stop and extended a leg, tapping his heel against the mall’s shiny floor. “ _These are my mom’s_. _They mostly fit, but they’re a little tight_. _I was actually thinking about buying myself a pair today. The rest is mine though_.”

“Including the makeup?”

Felix gave an affirmative hum.

Sam scanned his eyes over Felix with newfound perspective and said, “That still doesn’t explain why you’re wearing them.”

“ _If you really have to know, it’s an acting thing_.”

“It is?”

Felix nodded, then pointed towards the food court ahead. “ _Let’s go sit and I’ll tell you all about it_.”

 

* * *

 

Sam was surprised to find that Felix’s explanation didn’t take very long. It was concise and sensible, at least coming from someone like Felix, who evidently took any slight to his acting abilities as a personal challenge.

“ _So what about you?”_ Felix asked, leaning back in his chair. “ _What are you doing here? I never figured you’d willingly skip school_.”

“I was helping my father pick out an anniversary gift,” Sam said. He’d managed to keep his eyes on Felix’s throughout the explanation, but now his gaze wandered over bare arms and crossed legs. “We split up when we were done.”

Felix quirked an eyebrow, one side of his mouth curling upwards.

The lipstick he wore had Sam transfixed.

“ _That’s so sweet_ ,” Felix said. “ _Do you help pick out anniversary gifts a lot?”_

“Only sometimes.”

Felix leaned forward and rested an elbow on the table beside them, propping his chin in his hand. “ _What did you pick out this time?”_

Sam crossed his arms. He wasn’t opposed to answering the question, but there were still other things he wanted to discuss with Felix, things _about_ Felix. First and foremost among them was what had occurred at the party, closely followed by what had occurred solely in the last half hour.

He took his eyes off Felix for a moment and immediately spotted his father in the distance.

Felix followed suit.

“ _Oh, guess that’s my cue to leave, then_ ,” he said as he stood. “ _Thanks, this was fun_.”

Then, without any warning, he leaned down and pecked Sam on the cheek.

“.....”

“ _See you around_ ,” Felix said, and gave a parting wink before turning on his heel and walking off.

Sam stared after him.

When Sam’s father arrived, his expression was curious. “And her? Who is she?”

“You know her,” Sam replied. “More or less.”


	18. Out Of The Frying Pan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 1, Episode 13](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/41026814).

“Um, Sam?”

Sam looked up, only to find Julie standing beside his desk. Had she always been in his algebra class?

Having gotten his attention, she continued, “I know you know your lines already, but I was wondering if you wanted to get together and practice the scene.”

He stared at her.

“We could do it at my house,” she said. “I can give you directions.”

“...When?” Sam asked, if only because it seemed like the most fitting fitting question to ask at that moment.

“Oh. Uh. I’ll get back to you on that.”

They watched each other for a few seconds, then Julie marched back to her desk and sat down.

 

* * *

 

“Monday,” Julie said without preamble.

Sam hadn’t noticed her approach. “Monday?” he asked.

“For our scene practice. We don’t have school that day.”

Sam thought about it. He supposed it made sense; there was no point in letting a day go to waste simply because they could.

“I’ll ask my parents,” he said.

“...Okay.”

Julie stood there a moment longer, then retreated across the room.

 

* * *

 

After explaining the situation to his parents, he was given permission to go— with a few precautions.

“If there’s anything you don’t like, just come back. It doesn’t matter what it is,” his mother said. “Tell them there’s an emergency. If you want, text us and we’ll call you. Like that, you have an excuse. Okay?”

“Yes, I know.”

His father added, “And be careful that if you both go to her room, she doesn’t close the door. They could accuse you of anything.”

“I know.”

“And remember to give them thanks for inviting you,” his mother spoke again.

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

Sam walked into algebra and headed straight for Julie.

“I can come over to practice the scene,” he announced.

Julie jumped in her seat, but then a smile spread across her face. “Really? That’s great!”

“But I need directions.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Julie gave a stilted laugh and flipped to a clean page of her notebook. “Here, I’ll give you the address and my phone too,” she said as she took up a pen. “Go ahead and call me if you get lost.”

Sam watched her scribble everything down, then accepted the page from her hand. “Thank you,” he said, carefully folding and depositing it in his bag.

“Don’t worry about it,” Julie replied, waving him off.

Sam started walking away, then turned around. “What time?”

Julie paused. “...Noon?”

Sam nodded.

 

* * *

 

“I’m going to Julie’s house,” Sam announced on the way to the gym.

“Wait, what? Why?”

“To practice our scene.”

Felix raised an eyebrow, frown firmly in place. “Practice? You don’t need _practice_ ,” he said. “Trust me, that is _not_ the reason she invited you.”

Sam tilted his head. What other reason could there be? Julie had seemed genuine about her intentions, so why did Felix suspect otherwise?

Before he could ask, they reached the gym doors and Felix strode in without a backwards glance.

 

* * *

 

Julie’s instructions were easy to follow, made easier still by the fact that Sam took some time on Sunday to follow them.

On Monday, he figuratively retraced his steps and arrived in Julie’s driveway at exactly noon. Though they were both off book, he’d brought along his script. It had his notes on what kind of performance Felix was expecting, and gave him something to cling to as he pressed Julie’s doorbell.

A cold breeze had Sam shivering minutely.

“Sam!” Julie greeted as she pulled the door open. “You made it!”

“I did,” he replied.

Julie smiled and stepped back, opening the door further. “Come on in, we can go to my room.”

Sam felt a twinge of hesitation run through him at her words, but stepped in without complaint. Julie shut the door and walked into the living room with him at her heels.

“Gram, Sam’s here!” she called out. “We’re gonna go practice now, okay?”

There was some shuffling from what appeared to be a kitchen, then a voice answered, “Now hold on a minute! Let me meet him, for heaven’s sake.”

Julie came to a stop and Sam followed suit. He watched as an older woman emerged from the kitchen’s doorway, presumably Julie’s grandmother. As she approached, her eyes found his and she extended a hand.

“Well, hello, Sam,” she said. “My name’s Cheryl.”

Sam shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Julie’s told me a lot about you,” Cheryl went on. “She’s really happy the two of you got paired up.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Sam said, unsure what else he could possibly say.

“Okay, Gram, we’ve really got to get started,” Julie piped up, moving away and beckoning Sam.

“Oh, alright. You two have fun,” Cheryl said with a toothy smile. “I’ll be out here, so just let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Sam said, then quickly returned to Julie’s side.

The two of them made it to a starkly colored bedroom with a variety of posters taped up on every wall. Sam was pleasantly surprised to find that a few of them showcased anime, albeit none he was interested in.

Julie shut the door behind them and Sam frowned.

“Wait—”

Julie gave him a curious look.

“Shouldn’t we keep that open?” he asked, eyes flitting back and forth between hers and the door.

“...Oh! No, don’t worry about that,” Julie assured. “She’s got no problem with it. Like, at all. Ha.”

Sam wasn’t certain he should leave the matter be, but Julie was already sitting on her bed.

“So,” she nodded towards his script. “Do you want to get started?”

 

* * *

 

The two of them sat and recited their lines before moving onto blocking, trying their best to follow Felix’s directions despite his absence.

Eventually, Julie sat back down with a sigh, and Sam took the opportunity to text his parents that everything was fine.

“C’mon, sit down. You must be pretty tired too,” Julie said, patting the spot on her bed where he’d first sat.

He would’ve opted for the chair in the corner, but it was covered in several stacks of CDs, and while he thought it would be rude to ask that she remove them, it seemed even ruder to do it himself. Seeing as the situation remained unchanged, he took his spot on the bed once more.

“That was pretty good,” Julie said, pulling up her legs and turning towards him. “I think it’s what Felix was getting at. Right?”

Sam nodded.

“What about you? Are you happy with it?” she asked.

“I’m not the director,” Sam said.

“So? You’ve still got an opinion.”

Did he?

“People clapped when we did it in class,” he pointed out. “More than usual.”

Julie narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brow, but after a pause, her expression relaxed. “Well, I don’t think Felix can complain. Unless he gives us totally new directions, we’re basically done.”

Sam wondered if that was her way of politely asking him to leave.

“...Should I leave?” he asked, moving to stand up.

“Wh—? No! No, I just meant we’re done with all the memorizing and stuff,” Julie said.

Sam sat back down.

Silence descended.

He watched her lava lamp’s slow movements and felt his mind mimicking it: One thought after another, slowly flowing downwards, then floating back up in a never-ending cycle. He thought about Felix, about Felix’s obsessions, about their scene, about Julie.

He wondered if she’d ever watched a magical girl anime.

“Hey, you moved here during the summer, didn’t you?” she suddenly asked.

With great effort, Sam pulled his focus from the lava lamp. “Yes.”

“How are you liking it?”

“It’s small,” he said. “I like small towns.”

Julie rested her head on a knee. “Really? You don’t think they’re boring? Nothing ever happens here.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“Only if you expect bad things to happen, I guess.” She tilted her head. “Do you?”

Sam frowned. “Isn’t it better to have nothing happen than to have bad things happen?” he asked.

“Well... Isn’t that like life? There’s good things and bad things, but that’s what keeps it from being boring,” Julie reasoned.

“Then, if you’re alive, how can this town be boring?”

“That’s one of the bad things.”

Sam conceded her point with a small nod.

Silence descended again, but there was something decidedly more comfortable about it.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Sam shook his head.

“Why not?” Julie asked.

Sam wasn’t sure what kind of answer she expected, so he gave her the simplest.

“I don’t know.”

Julie scrunched her face up in thought and asked, “Do you want one?”

He thought about it, and promptly realized he’d never really thought about it. A girlfriend? Someone to care for, and be cared for in return? A person to spend time with, dedicate himself to, love? In a nebulous way, he supposed he did want that, just as anyone could be expected to want something favorable. Even so, he had a feeling that a nebulous want wasn’t what Julie meant.

“It would be nice,” he said.

“Then you should get one,” she replied.

“I would have to find one.”

“Find?”

Sam shifted in place, trying to make himself more comfortable without sprawling across Julie’s bed. Once he was satisfied, he elaborated, “It can’t be _anyone_.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I don’t see the point of being in a relationship for the sake of it,” he said, then thought to ask some questions of his own. “Why do people do that? Is it just for the sex?”

In mere seconds, Julie’s face had deeply reddened, and she let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Wow, right to the point!” she exclaimed, looking on the verge of toppling onto her side.

“Clarity helps have meaningful discussion,” Sam said.

“ _Apparently!”_ Julie choked out between laughs.

Sam watched her steadily regain control of herself, and once her laughs devolved into giggles, said, “You didn’t answer the question.”

The giggles rapidly strengthened back into laughs, and he watched in amused silence as Julie took another minute to compose herself.

Finally, she wiped at her eyes and muttered, “You’re really funny.”

“Am I?”

“Mhmm. You always look and sound so serious, and I was honestly worried that this whole thing was gonna be super weird and awkward, but you’re funny!” Julie grinned.

Sam’s curiosity was piqued. “You were worried?”

“Yeah, a little,” Julie admitted with a light shrug.

“Then why did you invite me?” Sam asked, steadily feeling more perplexed as he considered it. “We didn’t need to practice any more than we already had.”

“Why did you accept?”

Deciding to take his own advice, he opted for clarity and said, “It seemed polite.”

“ _Polite?”_ Another laugh.

Sam crossed his arms. He really had no other reason.

“Oh, Sam, you’re great,” laughed Julie. “But, uh, yeah. I kind of... Used you?”

Sam blinked at her.

Julie leaned forward and lowered her voice, “Basically, Gram’s always worried that I’m not enjoying high school or whatever. She says I’m supposed to be ‘young and in love’, that I should have a boyfriend, all that stuff. And it’s not that I _don’t_ want one, but...”

“But it’s not that you do,” Sam finished.

“Yeah.”

Silence again, companionable.

Sam abruptly realized the full implication of Julie’s explanation. “Does your grandmother think I’m your boyfriend?” he asked.

“...Um.”


	19. The Invitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 1, Episode 19](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/41349839).

“Sam, hi! Great timing.”

Sam frowned in confusion. “Why?”

“Mace and I were just talking about you,” Megan said.

“Oh.”

“But go on, what were you gonna say?”

“I—” Sam cut himself off, curiosity refusing to go unsatisfied. “You were talking about me?”

Megan’s laughter came through the phone. “Yeah, about your little performance yesterday. He’s still worked up over it!”

“ _Meg_ ,” Mason’s voice faintly sounded out.

Sam raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t thought it was _that_ noteworthy. Though it had certainly been an unlikely role for him, he’d risen to the task, and apparently the consequences of doing so included ongoing discussion on the matter.

“Is that a good thing?” he asked.

“It’s definitely not a bad thing,” Megan replied. “But anyway, can you make the party?”

Ah, right.

“That’s what I called to tell you. I can.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, uh, can we talk?”

“We are,” Sam pointed out.

Mason glanced around the crowded room. “No, not here. Upstairs.”

Freely wandering through someone’s house seemed rude, and therefore wholly unlike Mason, even if it was his girlfriend’s house. “But Megan—”

“She’s fine with it,” Mason interrupted, then looked away and cleared his throat. “Anyway, we don’t have to. Just thought I’d ask.”

Sam was more confused than ever. “Alright,” he said, determined to find out what had Mason acting so oddly.

“Oh. Okay. That works too.”

Mason got to his feet and Sam did the same. Across the room, Felix was still surrounded by various people, and didn’t appear to notice the two of them ascending the stairs. Sam imagined that was for the better; Felix could be nosy enough without cause.

“Over here,” Mason said as they reached the top, leading Sam down a hall and into a bedroom. “It’s Megan’s. Like I said, she’s fine with it.”

Sam had no real reason to doubt him, but still entered the room with a degree of wariness. What did Mason want to talk about so much that he’d let people into Megan’s room? Or that she’d let him, for that matter?

Mason closed the door and flicked on the light. “So. Megan should be coming up soon. I think she can explain it better than I can,” he said, all while addressing his shoes.

“Mason.”

“Yeah?”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked, steadily reaching the limit of how much ambiguity he could take.

Mason had the decency to meet his eyes at last. “Well... I guess I can explain it a little,” he said, then took a breath. “It’s about our improv scene.”

... _Again?_

“Not just about that,” Mason added, apparently feeling the need to elaborate after whatever expression Sam had made. “But that was the start of it. Sort of.”

More ambiguity.

Sam crossed his arms and said, “Maybe we _should_ wait for Megan.”

“Y- Yeah.”

Silence descended upon them, but before Sam’s patience had truly begun wearing thin, the door opened to let in Megan.

“Hey! Hope I didn’t take too long,” she said, locking it behind her.

Strange.

Mason shook his head. “No, not too long.”

“That’s good.” Megan glanced back and forth between them. “I’m guessing you haven’t talked, huh?”

Mason shook his head a second time.

“Alright. Guess it’s up to me,” Megan said. She turned to Sam and asked, “Are you interested in dating right now?”

Sam blinked. The question was unexpected, especially considering Mason’s mention of their improv scene. “Is this about Felix?” he asked, bristling where he stood.

“No, no. Well, sorta,” Megan admitted.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Mason and I were talking the other day. And it was something we’ve talked about before, but never like that. We _really_ thought about it, and how it would work, and we think we came up with a good idea.”

Curiosity at its peak, Sam awaited Megan’s explanation with bated breath. He watched her shoot a glance towards Mason, receive a nod in return, then turn back to him.

“Sam, would you date Mace?”

“...What?”

“Would you date Mace?” Megan repeated.

Sam’s eyes darted between them. He still wasn’t sure he’d heard right, but Mason’s sudden flush left few other possibilities.

“Would I?” Sam asked unthinkingly.

“Would you?” Megan countered, sounding genuinely curious.

“I...”

Sam glanced at Mason and happened to meet his eyes. Immediately, Mason looked away, but his flush worsened as Sam watched.

“What does this have to do with our improv scene?”

Megan sighed. “It doesn’t, not really. But I wasn’t kidding when I said he was worked up about it,” she laughed. “You think he’s red now? You should’ve seen him then.”

Sam stared at him.

The flush deepened.

“Anyway!” Megan interrupted, regaining Sam’s attention. “The point is that Mason’s always been interested in experimenting, but it was kind of a hypothetical thing. Your performance changed that. So what do you say? Wanna share a boyfriend with me?”

Sam didn’t know what to say. He was no stranger to the concept of love triangles, but he’d only ever known them to involve lies and secrets that inevitably lead to tragedy. This didn’t seem like that, but there were three of them. If not a love triangle, what else could it be?

“You want to date me?” he asked Mason.

“Uh, if you’d be fine with that,” Mason replied, briefly meeting his eyes.

Sam felt completely lost. In an effort to regain his mental footing, he asked the only other coherent question that came to mind.

“What about Felix?”

Megan and Mason frowned in unison.

“Has he asked you out?” Megan asked.

Sam shook his head.

“Then...” She trailed off with a shrug. “I’d say you’re free to date whoever you want.”

That made sense. Probably.

As if sensing his hesitation, Megan kept talking. “The way I see it, you and Mason could get together some weekends, go on dates and stuff. Every now and then the three of us could hang out. And if either one of you decides you’ve had enough, you can call the whole thing off,” she said. “Sound good?”

Sam tilted his head. “And you? Do you date other people too?”

“I don’t have anyone I feel that way about,” Megan answered, walking closer. “This wouldn’t just be a... A _fling_ or something. Mace likes you, and if you’re okay with it, he’d like to find out how much. Will you let him?”

“But... You said Felix was interested.”

Megan took a step back and Mason tensed. Realizing how they’d interpreted his statement, Sam hurried to clarify it.

“In me, I meant. Won’t he be upset?”

Though Mason seemed to relax, Megan bit her lip and glanced away.

“I think I can talk him down,” she said. “Plus, unless you and Mason go around announcing it, there’s no reason he should find out.”

That was a good point.

Sam uncrossed his arms and looked down at the floor. His arbitrary questions had been exhausted, which left him with nothing to do but confront the crux of the matter.

Mason wanted to date him.

It didn’t make any sense. Surely there were better prospects out there? People Mason knew better, people that weren’t so terribly awkward. After all, if one were to judge by Megan, awkwardness wasn’t something Mason was attracted to.

“Why me?” Sam asked him, closely watching his face.

“...Is there a reason it shouldn’t be you?”

“No. But it could be anyone else.”

Mason furrowed his brow, evidently having some sort of internal debate. Finally, he squared his shoulders and took a small step towards Sam, then another. “Well, we’re friends,” he said. Another step. “Megan likes you. You’re fun to talk to.” He stopped in front of Sam and added, “You’re good-looking.”

“I am?” Sam asked, not entirely certain which statement he was questioning.

“Yeah? If I’m going to try dating a guy, you’re the best choice there is. Having you practically crawling into my lap in front of everyone was just what made me realize it.”

“O- Oh.”

A quiet laugh left Mason. “You had me feeling pretty nervous back there,” he said. “It’s about time I returned the favor.”

And with that, he took one last step forward, pushed himself up, and gave Sam a moment of breathless anticipation before carefully pressing their mouths together.

Sam had never given much thought to kisses before. He’d imagined they felt nice, or else no one would care for them. They served no real purpose.

He’d never fully comprehended the sense of intimacy they afforded.

His eyes darted to where Megan stood watching them and felt his face grow heated. This was _weird_.

At some point, Mason pulled away and Sam blinked down at him, madly scrambling for something coherent to say. What constituted a sensible reply to a first kiss?

“That was my first kiss,” Sam said.

Mason’s eyes widened. He and Megan seemed to exchange a series of helpless looks before he turned to Sam again.

“I’m— Uh— Was it okay?”

Sam nodded.

Mason glanced back at Megan and she offered two thumbs-up.

This was _really_ weird.

 

* * *

 

When Felix asked Sam where he’d been, he hastily blamed his disappearance on a need for the bathroom, and when Felix asked if he was thirsty, said he’d had his fill.

Sam finished the night with Mason’s phone number safely tucked into his pocket.

 

* * *

 

Diana seemed delighted by his contribution to their conversation, especially once she realized what exactly that contribution entailed.

“You’re in a triangle!?” she asked as soon as he mentioned Megan and Mason’s relationship.

Sam shook his head. “No, there’s no rivalry.”

“No?”

“She— Well, he—”

Diana tilted her head.

“ _They_ discussed it and decided that he and I could date,” Sam said. “So she and I would have the same boyfriend.”

There was a pause during which Diana stared blankly ahead, but then her head swiveled towards him and an eerily wide grin stretched her lips. “ _Ehhhhh?”_

Sam crossed his arms and looked away.

“ _Ehhhhh?”_ Diana repeated, lightly shoving at him.

Sam adjusted his stance but otherwise held his ground.

“ _Ehh? Ehh?”_

“Diana...”

“The _situations_ you get into!”

Sam found himself agreeing with the sentiment.

 

* * *

 

“But there’s a problem.”

“Oh, yeah?” Diana asked.

Sam took a deep breath and wondered how best to explain Felix.

 

* * *

 

“Don’t feel bad. If he didn’t ask you first, it’s his problem.”

“...Maybe.”

 

* * *

 

After a few dances, Diana left Sam in search of better prospects, but not without suggesting that he’d do well to text a New Year’s greeting to his newly acquired boyfriend.

Sam did as much socializing as he was roped into, then gathered a plate of food and sat down to follow her advice.

 

* * *

 

[OUTGOING]  
Happy New Year.

[INCOMING]  
Hi, Sam!  
Happy New Year to you too. :)

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until Sam walked into biology and saw Mason that the full weight of all that had happened fell upon his shoulders.

He froze in the doorway and, as if sensing his presence, Mason looked up and met his eyes.

Sam hadn’t a single idea of how to proceed, so he opted for making a beeline to his desk and studiously avoiding Mason’s gaze.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Mason, far from it. They’d discussed all the most pressing matters at the party, but there was still no shortage of things Sam wanted them to talk about. Unfortunately, the biology classroom seemed less than ideal for those kinds of topics.

“Hey.”

Sam blinked up at Mason, seeing his own unease mirrored there.

“...Hi.”

“Yeah. Um.” Mason squatted down and lowered his voice, “Are you still okay with everything? Because it’s fine if you’re not.”

There was something oddly comforting about Mason’s hesitation, and Sam mustered up a smile. “I’m still okay with everything,” he assured.

Mason’s eyes widened and he quickly looked away. “That’s good,” he said, then pushed himself up. “We’ll talk at lunch.”

Sam watched him return to his desk as the bell rang, and barely heard a word of the subsequent lecture.

 

* * *

 

There was nothing more than small talk as they walked to lunch, and even once Megan joined them, it took some time before the elephant in the room was addressed.

“Okay, I’m assuming we’re all still on board with the sharing thing,” Megan said, turning her gaze from Sam to Mason and back again. “Right?”

“Y- Yes,” came their simultaneous reply.

Megan smiled. “Good!” she declared, then fixed Sam with a pointed look. “But again, if you ever change your mind, just let us know.”

Sam slowly nodded.

“Alright, then,” Megan said, rubbing her hands together, smile turning into a grin. “How are we gonna do this?”

 

* * *

 

Whatever Sam had expected out of a relationship, it wasn’t for things to largely remain the same.

Days passed, and aside from an increase in the friendly interactions he shared with Megan and Mason, it was no different from how things had always been. Mason offered him the same smiles he always had, Megan engaged him in conversation as much as she always did, and there was hardly any mention of their arrangement.

The most notable change came in the form of lunchtime scheduling: After some brief discussion, it was decided that Megan and Mason would accompany Sam the majority of the week. On Wednesdays, they’d both return to Felix’s table, and on Friday, only Megan would.

At the end of the week, Sam was left with Mason as his sole table companion.

For a while, Mason carried their conversation. He talked about their shared classes, asked about Sam’s, then met his eyes and said, “I was wondering something.”

Sam tilted his head.

“We have next Friday off,” Mason went on, aimlessly picking at his lunch. “Did you have any plans?”

“No,” Sam said.

Mason gave a small nod. “Then would you like to go out somewhere?”

“...Like a date?” Sam asked. He found himself rapidly trying to remember every date he’d ever watched or read about, given that those were his only sources of knowledge in lieu of actual experience.

“Yeah. Like a date.”

Sam felt a sudden wave of exhilaration come over him. “What did you have in mind?”

 

* * *

 

“What’s the deal with you and Mason?”

Sam froze, then slowly turned to face Felix. “What?” he asked.

“You and Mace,” Felix said, leisurely spread out on the bed. “He practically spent the whole week having lunch with you. Megan too. Did you get some blackmail on them at the party or something?”

Sam shook his head.

“Then what?”

Panic overtook all of Sam’s thought processes. What was he supposed to say? If neither Megan nor Mason had informed Felix of what was happening, then who was he to do it? On the other hand, Felix might not have asked them at all, in which case it was up to Sam to answer honestly. But was it his place to?

Conflicted, Sam crossed his arms and said, “We’re friends. Friends spend time together.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but _Mace?_ Really?”

To some extent, Sam had been expecting Felix to raise an objection. Despite that, the sheer contempt in his words, his voice, his very movements...

“Are you jealous?” Sam asked.

“What? No!” Felix scoffed. “Sammy, I may be many things, but ‘jealous of Mason Wu’ will _never_ be one of them.”

A moment passed, and once it became clear that Felix had dropped the subject, Sam turned back to the textbook.

For once, he was willing to set aside his curiosity for discretion’s sake.

 

* * *

 

Megan mentioning the possibility of Felix dragging him to the competitions, along with Mason corroborating it, had a lump of guilt forming in Sam’s gut.

He’d spent the past couple days oscillating between discussing his Felix problem with Megan and Mason or doing his best to ignore it. He wasn’t even sure if it was a problem. Felix’s obsession with him had been manageable enough all this time, and Megan and Mason were well aware of it. What would be the point of bringing it up?

“Anyway, I hear you two have plans this weekend,” Megan said as she quirked an eyebrow.

Mouth occupied, Mason was silent, leaving Sam to reply, “Yes.”

Megan’s head swivelled towards Mason. “What are you gonna do?” she asked. “Or is it a surprise?”

“It’s not,” he said, swallowing the last of his food. He took a few gulps of his drink and cleared his throat, then turned to Sam. “Whenever Megan and I go out, it’s usually to the cities near here. There’s at least two movie theaters, both about an hour away.”

“Ooh,” Megan smiled, clasping her hands together.

“So what I was thinking,” Mason went on, “was that we could go to one of those. They mostly show the same stuff, but if you want to see something specific, I can check which has it. Or if you don’t want to see a movie, we could go somewhere else. There’s a mall too.”

“Is that what you and Megan usually do?” Sam asked.

“Sometimes.”

Megan shrugged and added, “Other times we stay home. Depends how we’re feeling.”

Sam considered the idea of inviting Mason to his house.

“So do you want to?” Mason interrupted his train of thought.

Sam considered the idea of spending time with Mason in the city.

Megan watched them intently.

“Yes,” Sam said.

 

* * *

 

“Can I go out Friday?”

“Go out? Where?” Sam’s mother asked, carefully putting away their dinner’s leftovers.

Sam deposited a stack of used plates in the sink and said, “The theater, I believe.”

“You _believe?”_

“It’s that a friend invited me,” Sam explained. “I don’t know what he’ll have planned.”

His mother shut the refrigerator and turned around. “Felix?”

“What happened to Felix?” his father asked, peeking into the kitchen.

“Nothing,” Sam said, then looked back towards his mother. “Another friend invited me.”

“Where?” his father asked.

“Which friend?” his mother asked.

Sam’s gaze flitted between them. “The theater, maybe. And do you both remember Megan? The one who had the party? Do you both remember she had a boyfriend?”

After a couple seconds, his parents voiced their confirmation.

“Him,” Sam said.

Twin hums of understanding met his words.

“You didn’t tell us that he was your friend,” his father remarked.

Sam frowned. “I did tell you both.”

“Yeah? Well, since you only talk about Felix...”

“He’s also a friend of Felix’s?” his mother asked.

Sam lightly tilted his head from side to side. “More or less,” he said. “Not as much as Megan.”

His mother gave another hum of understanding. “And he’s a good friend?”

“Yes.”

“You should invite him, then,” she said. “To meet him.”

Once again, the thought of Mason in his house came to mind. He wondered what his parents would think, and what kind of impression his room’s decor would make. In fact, the thought of Mason in his room at all was extremely intriguing, given what had happened the last time the two of them were—mostly—alone in a room.

“I’ll ask him,” Sam replied.

His father nodded enthusiastically.

“And how are you both going to go to the theater? And which? There’s more than one, no?” his mother asked, then glanced around at the kitchen. “But let’s go sit first.”

 

* * *

 

“You look like you were pretty cold this morning,” Mason said.

Sam finished zipping up his coat and shouldered his bag. “Is that strange?” he asked, remembering Felix’s earlier condemnation of his appearance.

“No,” Mason said as they began making their way to the cafeteria. “It’s... It’s cute.”

Sam blinked.

Mason seemed determined to keep facing forward, giving the impression of detachment.

“...That’s not what Felix said,” was all Sam could think to reply with.

Mason’s eyes widened slightly as he turned to look at Sam. “Then Felix is wrong,” he said.

Sam felt a smile tugging at his lips.

 

* * *

 

Felix’s compliment to his jawline was unexpected and left him feeling guilty.

He wasn’t sure why.

 

* * *

 

The drive out of town, despite lasting an entire hour, was much less awkward than Sam had envisioned it.

The movie, though not to Sam’s usual taste, had enough elements to keep both him and Mason interested.

The mall, located across the street from the theater, contained a wide array of stores for them to peruse.

However, it wasn’t until they walked into one and a familiar image came into view that Sam began to feel the outing was truly worth it.

“‘ _Sailor Moon’?”_ Mason read out.

“Yes,” Sam said, scanning the shelf’s offerings. To his disappointment, the selection was lacking, and he backed away with a frown. “I already have these.”

“ _All_ of them?” Mason asked.

“Most are the first season. Some are the movies, and the rest are the first half of the second season. Not the good half.”

Mason said nothing for a few seconds, then let out a breathless chuckle. “ _This_ is a surprise,” he said, slowly shaking his head. “I never would’ve guessed you’d be... Like this.”

“Is ‘this’ bad?” Sam asked, feeling the threat of rejection looming over him.

Mason smiled.

“Not at all.”

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
how goes your love life?

[OUTGOING]  
We had a date.

[INCOMING]  
details!!!

 

* * *

 

“You three seem pretty cozy,” Felix said, looking at each of them in turn. “Is this some secret club I don’t know about?”

Sam frantically tried to formulate an explanation, but to his relief, Megan spoke up instead.

“It wouldn’t be a secret if we told you,” she replied, voice as casual as ever.

Felix hummed. “I guess not,” he said, conceding the point. “A hint would be nice though.” He offered Sam a smirk and asked, “How ’bout it, Sammy? Wanna give me a hint?”

“I don’t think it’s my place to say...”

“Oh, so there _is_ something,” Felix surmised, eyes glinting. He sat up and looked at each of them again. “Am I gonna have to figure out this little mystery on my own?”

“Yes,” Mason deadpanned.

Felix didn’t seem discouraged in the slightest.

 

* * *

 

As predicted, Felix partnered up with Sam and proposed they attend the drama event.

Truth be told, Sam wasn’t averse to the idea. Megan and Mason had seemed to enjoy themselves when they’d previously attended, and watching them compete was sure to be fun. If anything, Sam found himself excited at the prospect.

He resolved to ask Mason for help. It would be the perfect opportunity to invite him over.

 

* * *

 

Though Felix didn’t keep his hands on Sam’s stomach for very long, it seemed naive to imagine he didn’t want to.

 

* * *

 

Sam spent the week productively.

He issued Mason an invitation to his house, memorized his lines for Felix’s scene, and resolutely kept his mind from straying too far from his studies.

On Saturday, Mason arrived to a warm welcome, and Sam finally understood what Felix had meant: Having witnessed both receptions, it was clear his mother behaved differently towards Mason and Felix. What constituted that difference, Sam couldn’t say, only that it existed.

Once the initial introductions were over and done with, he led Mason to his bedroom, where a considerable portion of time was spent explaining his enjoyment of magical girl anime. To Mason’s credit, he appeared genuinely interested in Sam’s enjoyment, if not the root of it. Despite that, he asked various questions and nodded along to Sam’s responses.

At some point, the topic turned to the upcoming drama event, and Mason diligently provided all the details Sam could ever want to know. Given that Mason had only attended it once before, it was rather admirable. He also took the time to run lines with Sam, something which was hardly needed, but nevertheless appreciated.

Their focus gradually began petering out.

Sam would be hard-pressed to recall the exact sequence of events that led to them kissing, but was glad they’d transpired.

The feeling of Mason’s lips against his—tentative at first, then pushing, sliding—was intoxicating. Sam could easily envision himself growing addicted to it and abandoning his academic pursuits altogether.

“Here, why don’t we...?”

Mason adjusted himself on the bed and pulled Sam along, ending with them lying on their sides as they resumed kissing, hands cautiously on one another’s bodies. Truthfully, Sam had no idea what degree of touch Mason would comfortably receive, but was more than ready to receive some himself.

It took a bit of fumbling, but his fingers eventually closed around Mason’s forearm. He pulled it closer, until Mason’s hand was firmly against his chest, then leaned into it as if to say, ‘ _Touch me_. _I want it_.’

A soft vocalization left Mason and echoed between their mouths. The hand on Sam’s chest flexed, fingers digging into the muscle, and Sam let out a noise of his own.

To his intense disappointment, Mason pulled back.

“Hey, uh,” Mason cleared his throat. “As much as I’d like to keep going, we should probably stop. For now.”

Sam blinked lazily.

Mason offered him a lopsided smile.

 

* * *

 

“Did you two have fun together?” Megan asked, grin wide and knowing.

Sam and Mason locked gazes, only to hurriedly look away.

Megan laughed, Mason smiled, and Sam felt a new kind of elation.

 

* * *

 

There was a brief moment where Sam felt panic grip him, dread weighing heavily in his gut.

Despite that—or perhaps because of it—he stayed put, watching Felix take hold of the friend journal and open it up. There wasn’t much in it; Sam had meant to keep filling it out, but never did. That was rude of him, wasn’t it? The journal had been a gift.

Felix frowned as he quickly flipped through the pages. “You haven’t really used this, have you?”

“I wanted to,” Sam said, feeling the guilt he’d steadily come to associate with Felix flaring up again. “I answered some things.”

Felix stopped at a page, lips pursed, and said nothing for several seconds. Finally, he peered up at Sam. “I can see that. ‘His hands’?”

“You have nice hands.”

Felix’s eyebrows rose and a smirk spread across his face. “Oh? Do tell,” he prompted.

Hmm. There wasn’t anything weird about the observation, was there? While it was true that Sam had fantasized about Felix’s hands once or twice, he didn’t see how that was reflected in his words. Felix’s hands were objectively nice.

“They’re well-proportioned,” Sam said. “You use them when you talk. It’s fascinating.”

Felix held up a hand and slowly curled his fingers. “You like my hands, Sammy?” he asked, then carefully stretched out his index finger and tapped the end of Sam’s nose.

There was a pause, then Sam leaned back.

“To look at,” he clarified.

Felix said nothing, but put down the journal and returned to the bed, a strange glint in his eyes.

Sam turned his attention back to the textbook.

 

* * *

 

“Should I buy a Valentine’s Day rose for Mason?”

Megan grinned. “Oh, are you gonna?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

“You should,” she said. “If you want to. I doubt he’ll expect you to.”

Sam nodded. “Does he prefer chocolate or cherry?”

 

* * *

 

Sam’s stomach fluttered as the roses were delivered, only to give a small lurch when a cherry one was placed in front of Mason.

After reading the attached message, Mason kissed Megan a second time.

Not Sam’s, then.

His nerves lessened, only to spike back up as another rose-bearer approached their table. To his confusion, a rose was placed in front of him, leaving him wondering if he’d accidentally put himself down as the recipient.

He checked the rose’s tag and his apology died in his throat.

 

* * *

 

**_You’re great. I really like you.  
— M._ ❤︎**

 

* * *

 

“I...”

“What does it say?” Megan gleefully asked.

Sam met Mason’s eyes and felt his heart skip a beat.

Another rose was delivered, this time to Mason. Sam apprehensively watched him read the tag, and when there was no reaction forthcoming, hurried to justify himself.

“I didn’t sign it because I wasn’t sure— Not my name, but my initials are different from Megan’s, and if people thought—”

“Sam.”

Sam immediately stopped talking.

Mason looked up, wearing an expression Sam was wholly unprepared for. “I swear I could kiss you right now,” he breathed.

“What does it say, what does it say!?” Megan insisted.

Sam’s brain was slow to come up with a suitable response, but he eventually managed to nod. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“It’s so _you_ ,” Mason laughed, still breathy. “You don’t have to _thank_ me for that. And... I’d like to be, if you’d like me to be.”

“ _What does it sayyy_... _?”_

“I’d like you to be,” Sam said.

Mason nodded, not once taking his eyes off Sam’s.

 

* * *

 

“So who got you that?” Felix asked, nodding towards Sam’s bag.

“Hmm?”

“The rose,” Felix said.

Sam faltered.

It would be easy to tell Felix the truth, and was sure to put a stop to his apparently ongoing obsession. At the same time, it might have the exact opposite effect, only serving to draw his ire and provoke some manner of contrived vengeance.

“I don’t know,” Sam said.

“Whataya’ mean you don’t know? Isn’t there a name?”

“No.”

“If you give it here, maybe I can fig—”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sam said, much too quickly.

Felix stopped at the gym doors and narrowed his eyes at Sam, who resolutely stood his ground.

The silence was suffocating.

It was a small mercy when Felix moved to enter the gym.

 

* * *

 

Felix suggesting that they rehearse their scene once more wasn’t surprising.

What was surprising was what came afterwards, when Felix plucked two roses from his bouquet and practically shoved them at Sam without giving him a chance to refuse. Equally surprising were the messages on the roses’ tags, indicating that Felix had been planning on giving Sam the pair of them all along.

Idly, Sam wondered how many of Felix’s roses had actually been from admirers.

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
mace is coming over  
wanna join?

[OUTGOING]  
When?

 

* * *

 

Sam remembered the way to Megan’s house well enough, although in broad daylight, not surrounded by cars, the sight of it differed from the way it appeared in his memory.

As Megan had promised, it was empty aside from the three of them, and supposedly would be for many hours. Once, Sam might have found that unsettling. Now, he found it freeing.

Though he didn’t quite know what to expect, the three of them sitting down to watch movies was not it. Even so, he found himself enjoying the development. Mason sat between him and Megan, and as the minutes ticked by, the atmosphere settled into one of quiet camaraderie.

Soon after the second movie started, Megan leaned against Mason’s side and settled her head on his shoulder. A pang of _something_ went through Sam when Mason wrapped an arm around her, and he was deep in his own thoughts when he felt a brush against his side. Though it startled him, he remained firmly rooted to his seat and cast his gaze towards it, coming to the belated realization that it was Mason, scooting closer and barely pressing their sides together.

Wary of disturbing him, Sam stayed as still as possible.

The movie went on, and by the middle of it, Mason was well and truly leaning against Sam, just as Megan was leaning against him. Sam missed a good portion of the movie while he internally debated whether or not to wrap an arm around Mason. Before he could decide, the movie was over.

The rest of their visit was spent on inconsequential conversation, something which Sam had never been particularly good at. He still wasn’t, but with Megan and Mason, it somehow didn’t matter as much.

As the visit drew to a close, Mason asked Sam if he’d ever want to go to his house. “It’s nothing special though,” he said. “And I doubt we’ll get a lot of privacy.”

Sam imagined it’d be interesting, and though the lack of privacy was certainly a downside, it was offset by Mason’s consideration of it as such. Besides, Sam’s room likely afforded them all the privacy they could ever need. Barring that, Sam’s tent.

He told Mason he’d be happy to go to his house, and then Megan was hugging them both in turn. She gave Mason a peck on the lips and stepped away. There were a few awkward seconds where Sam and Mason tried to figure out what to do, but eventually gave each other a chaste kiss as well, marking an end to the visit.

That evening, Sam replayed the entire thing in his mind and ended up at one basic conclusion— that as unconventional as his relationship with Mason might be, it was difficult to think of one he’d prefer to have instead.

 

* * *

 

Felix asking if he had plans after high school sent Sam into a rapid downward spiral, and after spending the rest of the day agonizing over it, he texted Mason. Several lengthy messages later, he’d conveyed the scope of his problem: He had no idea what he wanted to do with his life.

Mason’s reaction was more comforting than Sam had hoped.

He assured that, while it was a bit late, it was by no means impossible to send out some college applications. According to him, Sam not knowing what he wanted to major in wasn’t a problem at all; he could opt for something general and specialize later on. Mason even offered to help with the application process, especially when it came to listing off where he and Megan had applied.

Though there was no certainty that any two of them would be accepted by the same institution, Mason said it was worth a shot.

Sam found himself agreeing.

 

* * *

 

Newly declared Felix’s personal heater, Sam sent a helpless look Mason’s way.

Thankfully, Mason didn’t appear to be upset, but he didn’t seem pleased either.

 

* * *

 

“He does,” Mason said.

Both Sam and Julie’s grandmother turned to look at him for the first time since their conversation began, and Mason’s eyes darted towards the rest of the group.

“Hey, Megan!”

She was at their side in an instant. “What’s up?” she asked, curiously glancing between the three of them.

“Isn’t it true you’re dating Sam?”

There was an excruciating stretch of time during which Sam could only imagine the pleading look Mason was giving her.

“...Yeah!” Megan confirmed, only to walk up to Sam and expertly maneuver his arm around her waist.

For the second time that day, Sam sent Mason a helpless look, but was glad to find a smile on his lips.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the event went by smoothly.

Sam ate his snacks with Megan and Mason, during which time they praised him for his performance. Each word in his favor sent a thrill up his spine, and though it made him feel egoistic, he clung to every one of them even as he desperately wished for more.

Later, Megan and Mason performed their duet. Sam had heard it during class rehearsals, but paid just as much attention as he had then. It was a romantic song, and their voices wonderfully complemented one another.

A twinge of longing went through him when they belted out the final note.

As the number of competitions dwindled, debates about where to go eat heated up. By the time Ms. Green was given everyone’s scores, the winning restaurant had been elected by popular vote. Afterwards, with a full meal in their stomachs, the journey back home could begin.

When Felix suggested Megan take the front, no one objected.

When Felix curled up against Sam’s side, no one objected.

However, even in the darkness of the car, Mason’s frown was evident.

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
Are you okay? I missed you. :(

[OUTGOING]  
I think I caught something.

[INCOMING]  
You’re sick?

[OUTGOING]  
Yes.

[INCOMING]  
Can I come over?

 

* * *

 

Mason came over on Friday afternoon.

According to him, Felix had spent the week complaining about Sam’s absence— a fact that Sam could corroborate from the various texts he’d received. His explanations had seemed to appease Felix, but Mason thought otherwise.

“I swear, if I hadn’t said I was coming over to check on you, he probably would’ve done it himself.”

Sam gave a miserable cough into his blanket. “What... What did you tell him? What reason?”

“That I was bringing you your worksheets. Which I did, by the way,” Mason said, reaching into one of his pockets and pulling out a folded square.

“...Thank you...”

Mason shrugged and set the worksheets down on Sam’s bedside drawer. “Hey, no problem. I figured you’d want to catch up over the weekend.”

“That was thoughtful of you.”

“It was the least I could do for my—”

“Mason, hi!” Sam’s mother greeted.

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Ortez,” Mason said, straightening in his seat.

Sam found himself torn between amusement and exasperation.

“How are you, Sami?”

“Fine.”

“Did you eat any soup?”

“No...”

“ _Sami_ ,” his mother chided, then set her sights on Mason. “Tell him to eat his soup, okay?”

Mason laughed and replied, “I will.”

 

* * *

 

“You should invite Mason more.”

Sam blinked up at his mother. “You think so?”

“If you want to,” his mother said. “I like him.”

Sam couldn’t hold back a small smile.

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Being cast as Romeo wasn’t the greatest thing that had ever happened to Sam, but there were a few good things to come of it. Namely, some lighthearted jokes from Megan, and something that wasn’t quite a joke from Mason.

“I can’t think of anyone better,” he said, smile too shy for his words to be anything but genuine.

Sam offered him one in return.

 

* * *

 

Mason’s house was clean, pleasant, and perfectly functional.

His parents, from what little Sam spoke with them, seemed friendly.

His brother was also there.

Mason’s bedroom was much like the rest of his house, but with he and Sam as its sole occupants, it had a comfortable, welcoming quality to it. Unfortunately, Mason’s warnings held true, and the door was soon yanked open without warning.

“Hey,” said Mason’s brother.

“What,” said Mason.

“Remember what you said.”

“Yeah. You too.”

His brother left and Sam made a questioning noise.

“It’s nothing,” Mason said with a wave of his hand. “Just... I promised I’d do some of his chores if he didn’t interrupt us. My parents still will, but it won’t be half as bad with him out of the picture.”

Sam smiled and asked, “You don’t want to be interrupted?”

Mason looked away. “You know what I mean,” he mumbled.

Sam’s smile widened.

 

* * *

 

Felix’s advice was helpful, but Sam had a feeling his voice could still use some work.

He told himself that was the only reason he texted Mason for help.

As luck would have it, Mason replied that he and Megan were planning on visiting the mall tomorrow, but that they might be open to having a little company. A few minutes later, he confirmed that Megan would be happy for Sam to come along.

They spent the early hours of Sunday afternoon at the mall, dividing their time between aimless wandering and working on Sam’s vocal inflections. Megan and Mason’s advice was useful, and by the time they all returned home, Sam began to think he’d made some real progress.

The outing left him feeling content. Whether that was because of his increased abilities or the gentle smiles Mason continually sent his way, Sam couldn’t be sure.

Even so, he was leaning towards the latter.

 

* * *

 

When his father asked who his best friend was, Sam paused.

He didn’t know.

It had been Felix at some point, but now?

In a way, he supposed it only made sense to date one’s best friend. Wasn’t that what some people did? Which meant that Felix couldn’t be his best friend.

Felix had stopped being his best friend the instant Sam had agreed to date Mason.

Better said, Sam had stopped being his.

The guilt reared its head again.

 

* * *

 

Without the pretense of schoolwork, he and Mason ended up on the bed remarkably quickly, kissing as if their lives depended on it.

Every passing moment seemed to double Sam’s experience until he was returning Mason’s kisses with nearly equal skill. His mouth parted around Mason’s tongue and Mason’s mouth parted around his, their movements perfectly matched. Unlike the last time they'd kissed so fervently, Mason took the initiative and pressed his hands to Sam’s body. When Sam gave no sign of protesting, Mason started running them over his sides and across his back. Sam responded in kind, wrapping Mason in his arms and drawing him closer.

Breathing the same air, panted into each other’s mouths, it seemed impossible to have him any closer. How much closer could two people be?

Mason pulled away, only to attach his lips to Sam’s jaw. He nibbled at the skin there, lightly running his tongue over it, then worked his way towards Sam’s neck. The kisses he left were small and fast, marking a trail down to where Sam’s collarbones just barely peeked out from his shirt. Somehow, the small kisses felt larger there.

Sam wondered if it was because of the way they skirted along the edge of what was covered up, off-limits.

He let out a shaky breath and moved a hand to Mason’s hair, threading his fingers through it. If anything, that seemed to encourage Mason, whose kisses turned hotter and wetter. Sam felt a strange urge to arch into them.

“Sam...” Mason sighed, resting his head under Sam’s chin. “What you wrote on the rose’s tag... Did you mean it?”

It took Sam a moment to process the question. Once he did, he felt his stomach flutter with anticipation. “ _Yes_ ,” he replied.

At first, Mason was still, but then one of his hands slipped under Sam’s shirt and drifted up his side.

Sam held his breath.

Mason brought their mouths together again, kissing Sam slow and deep. It forced him to breathe, but he kept his focus on Mason’s hand and the way it moved, traveling back and forth across his body.

“Your parents are here,” Mason interrupted, pulling away, “so I’m not gonna do that. But if they weren’t...”

Sam licked his lips and Mason’s eyes followed the movement.

“Well, I wouldn’t do it then either,” Mason said.

Sam had no idea what kind of expression he made, only that Mason apparently found it hilarious.

“Sorry, sorry! You’re just too cute,” Mason got out between laughs. He pressed a soft kiss to Sam’s lips and said, “I don’t want to rush this though.”

“Then...?”

Mason gave a half-shrug. “Next week’s spring break,” he said. “We can hang out, maybe go see another movie or something. And if you’re still up for it, we can start thinking about going further.”

“Why not now?”

“Honestly? Because I didn’t bring condoms.”

Sam stared at him.

“Not that we’d end up doing something we need them for, but I’d rather be prepared, you know?” Mason went on.

Sam’s mind drifted.

“...Sam.”

“Mhmm?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

 

* * *

 

“Have you and Megan had sex?”

Sam and Mason were spending the day at the mall. They were currently eating in the food court, and for a moment, Sam was fairly worried that Mason was going to choke. Thankfully, he didn’t, but it did take a few sips of his drink for his wild-eyed expression to fade.

“Uh, yeah,” he eventually answered, clearing his throat. “Why do you ask?”

“I was curious.”

Mason was quiet, likely waiting for an explanation beyond simple curiosity. When it didn’t come, his brows furrowed and he said, “Hey, if this is about the other day, I _promise_ I’m interested.”

Sam felt a smile tug at his lips. “That’s good to hear,” he said.

“So...” Mason trailed off. “Do you have any questions?”

Sam grimaced. His problem was always having too many questions and not the faintest idea of how to articulate them. Or even what they were, in a few cases.

Mason watched him intently, then leaned back in his chair. “I’m serious, if you think of any, let me know. You could ask Megan too. I just don’t want you to feel like I’m... I don’t know, taking advantage of you or something.”

“.....”

“Sam?”

“That’s very kind of you,” Sam said, feeling a sudden warmth deep down inside himself.

“Oh. Well. It’s the least I can do, right?”

While that may have been true, it did nothing to dissipate the warmth.

 

* * *

 

As entertaining as it had been to witness Mason’s reactions to his tent—“This is so small! And you make Felix study in here?”—it wasn’t nearly as entertaining as zipping it shut and closing in on Mason, making his intentions clear.

For a while, all they did was kiss. Their hands occasionally strayed from place to place, though nowhere they hadn’t been before, and their mouths maintained a steady pace. Neither of them escalated the situation, content to savor the moment until Mason pulled away.

“This is so different than with Megan,” he murmured, idly stroking Sam’s side. “She makes sure I know what she wants, but you...”

“I don’t?” Sam guessed. “Is that bad?”

“No, you do! I think. But you’re a lot more... You remind me of some of the girls I dated before Megan.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and asked, “I’m like a girl?”

Mason opened his mouth, then frowned and looked away, as if he was giving the comparison deeper thought. “Maybe?” he finally ventured. “What I mean is, looking at you, I didn’t expect you to be so... Patient? To be honest, I always feel like I’m waiting for you take control and get what you want, like that scene we did.”

Sam blinked. “But I don’t know anything about this,” he pointed out. “How can I know what I want?”

In lieu of an answer, Mason kissed him, and soon enough, it became obvious the conversation was over. Their kisses rapidly increased in fervor, and Mason’s words repeated over and over in Sam’s mind.

He decided to try being assertive.

Carefully, he pushed Mason’s shoulder and slowly tipped him onto his back. Before Mason could ask what he was doing, Sam moved atop him and resumed their kisses, feeling a sense of accomplishment at Mason’s approving hum.

But then Sam found himself at a loss. What more could he do? He wasn’t nearly knowledgeable enough to try improvising much further, and frankly, the possibility of doing something wrong was a strong deterrent.

Hesitantly, he pushed his hips down against Mason’s, seeking friction. To his surprise, his half-hearted thrust was immediately met with a stronger, more deliberate one. Mason’s hands clenched at him and Sam gave another thrust, then another, until the two of them were moving in tandem, panting with the effort of it. At some point, Sam thrust a little too hard, slid a little too far, and Mason’s hands repositioned his hips so that their erections were pressed against each other once more.

“That’s it, Sam. Right there,” he said, and just like that, Sam started losing his rhythm entirely.

It felt selfish to prioritize his own pleasure over Mason’s, but Sam was powerless to the drive within his body.

Mason let out a breathless laugh. “Fuck, you feel so... _Powerful_ like this.”

Sam made a garbled questioning noise, thrusting ceaselessly.

“You’re big... And strong... And that’s way hotter than I was expecting it to be,” Mason said. His hands slid lower, cupping Sam’s backside. “But I guess that’s why I asked you out, right?”

Sam felt his orgasm approaching, and perhaps Mason did too, because he suddenly rolled them over and sat up, breaking their contact.

“I want to try something,” he said.

Desperate panting was Sam’s only reply.

Mason laid a hand on his hip and pushed up his shirt with the other, leaving everything but his shoulders exposed. Lightly pinching a nipple, Mason asked, “Can I?”

Sam nodded mindlessly and Mason leaned down.

Truth be told, Sam didn’t consider his nipples to be particularly sensitive, but there was something to be said for the image of Mason’s mouth on them. He’d once read that the brain was the body’s most powerful sexual organ, and at the time, it’d made a technical sort of sense. Now, he was inclined to vehemently agree.

Mason sat back up and thumbed at the front of Sam’s pants. “Are you okay with this?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Sam breathed, then wondered if he’d sounded too insistent. “If you are.”

Mason clearly had no such qualms and wasted no time unzipping Sam’s pants. As soon as his underwear was in view, Mason pulled it aside, and his erection swung free.

There was a pause where Mason only stared.

“Huh. Well, I guess Felix was right about the stallion thing.”

And so saying, Mason took it in hand and started pumping.

Sam _keened_.

“It’s getting bigger, isn’t it?” Mason asked as he peered down at it.

“Yes, it— _ngh_ —does that...”

Mason tightened his fingers and quickened his pace. “Come on, Sam,” he murmured. “Come for me.”

It took a little longer but Sam did, riding out his pleasure in Mason’s grasp. Eventually, he slumped, sated and boneless, and blinked up at Mason.

“Good?” Mason asked.

Sam gave a weak nod.

Mason smiled and leaned down to peck him on the lips. “Now, I hope you don’t mind,” he said, starting to rock his hips against one of Sam’s thighs, “but I figure you’re too tired to use your hand.”

“It’s fine,” Sam sighed, content to let Mason use his body instead.

 

* * *

 

Lunch was spent in silence, with Megan’s knowing look saying all that could ever be said.

 

* * *

 

“Looking forward to kissing Julie?”

Sam tilted his head. “No. Why would I?”

Felix laughed. “C’mon, you know she’s got the hots for you. If you play your cards right, this could be all the excuse you need to finally get some,” he said. “Hell, have you even dated anyone this whole year?”

Guilt.

Panic.

Sam said nothing, and Felix apparently took that as an answer in and of itself.

“Seriously? Not a single chick at this school’s met your standards?” he asked incredulously. “You’re impossible, I swear.”

The panic lessened, but the guilt remained.

 

* * *

 

On the way to literature, Megan asked Sam about prom. According to her, Mason wasn’t too fond of it, and would probably skip it unless Sam expressed an interest in going.

Sam, though curious, didn’t feel excited by the prospect of spending his night surrounded by raucous strangers. Loud music and enthusiastic dancing were both things he was familiar with, but the environment afforded by relatives in their home was bound to be different from that of a school and its watchful staff.

He discounted the possibility.

 

* * *

 

When Mason approached him in biology and asked if he’d like to mix their cups, Sam was fairly certain he wasn’t imagining the blush on Mason’s cheeks.

He was also fairly certain he wore a blush of his own as he accepted.

 

* * *

 

Sam turned down Julie’s invitation to prom, noting that Felix looked entirely too pleased as he did so.

 

* * *

 

When Sam’s parents explained their impending absence, he only had one question.

“Can I invite a friend?”

His parents exchanged uneasy glances.

“Which?” his mother asked.

“Mason.”

His father nodded and said, “I like him.”

Another exchange of glances.

“Fine,” his mother sighed. “Only for a couple hours.”

“How many?”

“Don’t let him stay past six,” his father said.

“ _Six?”_ his mother asked.

“No?”

She sighed again. “Fine. Not past six.”

 

* * *

 

[OUTGOING]  
My parents won’t be home on Saturday.  
Would you like to come over?

[INCOMING]  
I’d love to. <3

[OUTGOING]  
<3

 

* * *

 

From the very first kiss, the encounter felt different, likely because of the house’s emptiness. Knowing that he and Mason had hours without interruption was a far greater stimulant than Sam could’ve ever predicted.

They were on the bed, having just divested the last of their clothes, when Mason sat up and raked his eyes over Sam’s body.

Sam returned the favor.

One of Mason’s hands reached out and trailed down Sam’s front, feeling its planes and ridges.

“Do you touch Megan like this?” Sam asked.

Mason shook his head but kept his eyes on his wandering hand. “Not since we first started messing around,” he said.

“Hmm. How different are we?”

“Pretty different,” Mason laughed, meeting Sam’s eyes at last. His hand drifted up to Sam’s chest. “This, for example.”

Sam looked at it and frowned. “Would you prefer I had breasts?”

“No. I...” Mason’s brow furrowed. “It’s strange. Physically, I usually don’t— You’re different.”

Sam tilted his head.

Mason shrugged. “You’re you. I like that, whether or not you have breasts.”

“And the rest?” Sam asked, deliberately opening his legs and angling his hips.

“And the rest,” Mason nodded. “It definitely helps that I already know how everything works down there.”

“Then”—he had to be _assertive_ —“show me.”

Mason’s eyes widened, and after a pause, he closed the distance between their bodies, kissing Sam deeply. Their hands grappled at heated skin, and once their erections brushed, a pair of moans left their mouths.

“Do you— _mm_ —have a preference— _ngh_ —for how we do this?”

“ _Mm?”_

After a few more kisses, Mason pulled away and rolled onto his side. Sam frowned at the loss and turned to face him.

“If we want to have sex, how do you want to do it?” Mason asked. “I’m open to whatever, but for what it’s worth, I do think that having some experience helps a lot here.”

“Experience with sex?” Sam asked.

“With anal.”

“...With Megan?”

“Mhmm.”

Sam thought about that. Somehow, the idea that Mason had done it before, that Sam was completely at a disadvantage in comparison... It managed to be oddly reassuring.

“I trust you,” Sam said, because it was true.

“You...?” Mason licked his lips. “Do you want me to do everything then?”

“What does ‘everything’ include?”

Mason’s fingers ghosted down to Sam’s thigh as he spoke, “Well, if I’m going to fuck you, I need to get you ready.”

Hearing Mason use ‘fuck’ in the context of doing it to him...

Sam’s nerves were practically alight.

“Get me ready?” he asked.

Mason nodded and hooked his fingers behind Sam’s knee. He pulled it up, then dragged a hand over the curve of his backside. “Here,” he said, fingers just shy of where he surely meant. “If I don’t, it’ll hurt.”

That made sense. Probably.

“And then?” Sam asked.

“I put on a condom and fuck you,” Mason said as plainly as Sam imagined a person could.

“Alright. Do it.”

Sam avidly watched Mason pull some condoms and a small bottle from his discarded pants. He tore open one of the condom packets, expertly rolled the condom on, and proceeded to pour the bottle’s liquid substance onto his fingers.

“This is probably going to feel weird,” he said from his newfound spot between Sam’s legs. “That’s normal, but tell me if it hurts, okay?”

That was all the warning Sam got before a slickness circled over his opening, rubbing firmly but gently. It was a surprisingly enjoyable sensation. In a way, it almost felt like a tickle, one which induced no laughter.

Mason pushed his finger in and the sensation changed, neither drastically nor unpleasantly. The tickle was gone, and though Sam didn’t appreciate the lack of it, he didn’t particularly mind it either.

“Everything good?” Mason asked.

“Yes...”

The sensation changed again as Sam felt the stretch of two fingers. He had no complaints, but he could see how it might become uncomfortable.

“How does it feel?”

Sam clenched down on Mason’s fingers and declared, “Like you said, weird.”

“Fair enough. Think you can take another?”

The prospect of a third finger wasn’t terribly appealing, but it didn’t seem like Sam had much of a choice. If he wanted Mason to fuck him, he’d end up stretched one way or another, so he hummed in affirmation and the stretch intensified, turning into something that felt like a burn. While Sam wouldn’t call it painful, he knew other people might, and he squirmed and clenched in an attempt to hasten his body’s adjustment.

“Still good?”

Sam nodded, then asked, “Does Megan like this?”

“The stretching? Not really. But fingering, that’s another story.”

Confusion distracted Sam from his discomfort. “Isn’t this fingering?”

“Ehhhh. Kind of? I’m not really _doing_ anything,” Mason said, and promptly did something.

It felt strange, but no more uncomfortable than all that had preceded it.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked.

“Moving my fingers,” Mason replied. “In, out, around. Just trying to get you as ready as possible.”

Sam frowned and waited. The burn had lessened, and more than a few of Mason’s movements were providing interesting sensations. Even so, Sam doubted any of those sensations could blossom into something fully pleasurable, which made him start worrying about the whole endeavor altogether. He’d rather have the experience than not, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be disappointed if it left much to be des—

... _That_ was more than just interesting.

Mason raised an eyebrow. “Something you like?”

Sam nodded and almost instantly felt it again.

“Good to know,” Mason commented.

“What are y—? _Ah_...”

“Found it myself a while ago,” Mason grinned proudly. “Apparently it’s the prostate. Surprising, right?”

“F- Fascinating... Ngh, _Mason_...”

Mason’s fingers withdrew, leaving Sam empty and yearning.

“Is there any position you prefer?” Mason asked.

Sam shook his head, impatient to continue chasing his pleasure.

“In that case, I was thinking that I’d like you on your hands and knees.”

“.....”

“Not because I don’t want to see you!” Mason hurriedly clarified. “I do, but I’d like to see you that way first. If you’re fine with it, of course.”

Sam blinked, then awkwardly rolled himself over and got into position. Behind him, Mason let out a long, satisfied breath.

“Here, let me just...”

Hands ran over Sam’s body, adjusting his stance and pushing down on the curve of his back. He felt Mason lean over him, laying kisses up his spine, then felt a tug and realized his hair tie was being removed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair down,” Mason said. “It looks nice.”

As much as Sam appreciated that, Mason’s erection was pressed against his backside, a relentless tease of what was to come. Still, leaving the compliment unacknowledged would be rude, so he rocked his hips and said, “Thank you.”

Mason chuckled and kissed another spot on Sam’s back. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Mason retreated until his hand on Sam’s hip was the only point connecting them. He rubbed the tip of his erection over Sam’s opening a couple times, then pushed it in.

It wasn’t the most enjoyable of sensations.

Sam grunted at the sting and Mason stilled.

“Too much?”

“It’s fine...”

“You’re sure?”

Sam pushed hips back in one swift motion.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Mason hissed.

The hand on Sam’s hip tightened and was quickly joined by another, both holding him firmly in place. Sam doubted Mason realized he was doing it, but was grateful all the same; the grip made the temptation to pull away slightly easier to overcome.

For a while, their heavy breaths were all that filled the room. Small twitches ran through Sam’s body, with larger spasms in his thighs and around Mason’s erection. He tried to focus on something other than the pain, to no avail.

“...How are you?” Mason asked.

“Fine,” Sam gasped out. “Did Megan say it hurt?”

Mason let out a strangled laugh. “Well, she didn’t take me all at once, so there’s that.”

“You said I was being too complacent,” Sam said.

“Did I?”

“You did.”

“.....”

“You said you were waiting for me to take control and get what I want.”

“Oh, that!” Mason exclaimed. “I didn’t mean I _wanted_ you to, just that I was kind of expecting it.”

Sam said nothing.

“Not that I mind it, not at all, but you shouldn’t force yourself—”

“Mason.”

“Yeah?”

Sam rocked against him. “Fuck me.”

“...Yeah, alright.”

Mason pulled out and smoothly thrust back in. Sam didn’t have time to form an opinion on it before he did it again, and again, and again. Each thrust came faster than the last, and with every single one, Sam felt himself growing closer to his peak.

Then Mason shifted and Sam’s peak was no longer a distant possibility, but a very real probability. He heard himself vocalizing, but wasn’t sure there were any words involved. Mason seemed to understand his meaning all the same: _Don’t stop_.

The force of Mason’s thrusts gradually pushed Sam up the bed, and it wasn’t until he felt his pillow cushioning him from the headboard that he realized he’d folded his arms. Given that Mason didn’t seemed to mind, Sam stayed as he was, adrift in a sea of pleasure while offering up the only part of himself that currently mattered.

That was, at least, until one of Mason’s hands wrapped around his erection.

Sam knew his orgasm was coming. He could sense it on the horizon.

It still managed to take him by surprise.

“A- Are you...?”

Sam’s inability to answer was evidently answer enough.

Mason continued driving into him throughout his orgasm, but withdrew once it ebbed away, prompting a wince of discomfort.

“I want to try something,” Mason said. “If you have the energy for it, at least.”

Sam mustered up a curious noise.

Mason moved him aside to adjust the pillow against the headboard. Apparently satisfied, he sat back against it and raised an eyebrow at Sam.

“You know how this goes, right?” he asked.

Sam eyed his erection. “I have some idea.”

He shuffled closer and carefully maneuvered himself to straddle Mason. With minimal fumbling, Mason positioned him directly atop his erection, then gently lowered his hips.

“Slowly, slowly...”

Sam heeded the advice as he sank down, relishing the fullness that came with it. Eventually, when there was no more of Mason left to fill him, they let out twin sighs of satisfaction. Despite his recent orgasm, arousal still coursed through Sam’s body, still thrummed in his blood.

Mason tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, then tugged at some of the shorter ones with a smile. “Did you used to have bangs?” he asked, amusement clear.

“Somewhat.”

“Are there pictures?”

“Somewhere.”

Mason grinned. “Remind me to ask again later,” he said, letting the strands go and trailing his gaze up and down Sam’s body. “You look different like this.”

Sam squinted.

“Well, so does Megan when we’re together. I guess everyone does,” Mason mused. “I like it.”

“Do we look different or do you just see us differently?” Sam posited.

Mason blinked, then suddenly smiled. “I fucking love you,” he said, bringing their mouths together again.

Sam felt his heart skip a beat, but wasn’t able to do much more than return the kiss, so that was exactly what he did.

Enthusiastically.

Mason broke the kiss with a low moan and said, “You’re gonna to have to move now, like this.”

His hands pulled at Sam’s hips and Sam let them, nearly rising free of Mason’s erection before being nudged back down. The cycle repeated, forming a steady rhythm that soon sped up. Though Sam didn’t think he could have another orgasm yet, he found himself wholly invested in the prospect of Mason’s, and dutifully bounced on his lap. Judging by the way Mason watched him, lips parted and eyes hooded, he was doing a good job.

The sense of accomplishment Sam felt was enough to spur him on, regardless of his aching thighs.

At some point, Mason began meeting his movements, frantically thrusting up into him. Less than a minute later, he was pulling Sam close and holding him tight, entire body tensing. Then, once it was over, the two of them slumped in place, gasping for air.

Sam had no idea how much time passed before Mason gently pushed him away and scooted off the bed. He mourned the loss, only to be distracted by the condom Mason proceeded to roll off. His thoughts drifted, and he found himself wondering how different unprotected sex would’ve felt.

“I’ll be right back,” Mason said as he left the room.

It took Sam entirely too long to come to the reasonable conclusion that Mason had gone to the bathroom, and by the time he returned, that conclusion was rapidly being drowned out by an overwhelming drowsiness.

Mason came to a stop beside the bed.

Sam offered him a languid blink.

“Wanna cuddle?” Mason asked, tone joking but expression genuine.

All Sam could think to say was, “You said you loved me.”

Mason’s face grew flushed as he watched.

“Uh, w- well, I... I don’t know, how would you feel about something like that?”

Sam gave as much of a shrug as he could manage and said, “You have Megan. I know this was all an experiment.”

“Whoa, wait,” Mason objected, clambering onto the bed and lying down beside him. “Sure, it was always about trying new things, but I wasn’t gonna try them with just anybody. I wanted to try them with _you_.” He lightly jabbed at Sam’s chest. “And yeah, I don’t know that _love’s_ the right word, but I really do like you. Enough that maybe, eventually...”

He trailed off, but that was alright.

What he did say merited several more kisses on its own.

 

* * *

 

Sam was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes from straying towards Mason.

His only consolation was that the feeling was apparently mutual.

 

* * *

 

When Sam realized Felix had fallen asleep against his side, he didn’t know what to think.

He supposed it could happen to anyone; the rain’s patter was relaxing, the history textbook wasn’t the most engaging of reads, and Felix’s head was resting on one of the most pillow-like parts of Sam’s body.

It was nothing to worry about.

 

* * *

 

“Hold on,” Mason said, hanging back in the dark corner they’d been tasked with depositing some props in.

Sam gave him a curious look.

“Come here a second.”

Sam did so, and once he was close enough, Mason grabbed hold of a nearby curtain and pulled it around them.

“What are you—?”

The kiss was brief, but Sam still felt his heartbeat speed up.

“Meg and I used to sneak around like this,” Mason whispered in his ear. “I guess the novelty wore off after a while. But I figured you’d like to try it.”

And with that, Mason gave him another kiss and let go of the curtain, making his way backstage.

Sam took a moment to collect himself before following.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Sam?”

“Yes?”

“Your focused face is always the same.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. It, uh, made bio pretty awkward today.”

“...Oh.”

“Mhmm.”

 

* * *

 

“Sammy...”

Sam marked his place in the textbook, anticipating yet another of Felix’s long-winded deviations from the studying at hand. “What is it?”

He was completely unprepared for the way one of Felix’s hands smoothed over his stomach, no pretense of breathing correctly in sight.

“I’ve been thinking,” Felix said, voice lilting in a way Sam hadn’t heard from him before. “You’re not the easiest guy to read, but there’s stuff that’s easy to tell. You’re nerdy, bitchy, definitely not a people person...”

Sam watched Felix’s hand creep over his front and to his side, dragging back and forth. Felix himself had sat up and now loomed over Sam, his words barely louder than the puffs of air carrying them, even in the tent’s enclosed space.

“Still, I can tell you’re lonely. It’s kinda sad, really. You’re a nice guy and everything, there’s no reason you shouldn’t have some fun. And, well, with all you’ve helped me out this year, I practically feel like I _have_ to pay you back,” Felix murmured, eyes glinting.

Sam swallowed.

“So I thought,” Felix closed in, “what better way than this?”

In hindsight, Sam should’ve expected it. Ignoring Felix’s obsession had never meant it would go away, no matter how much Sam tried to will it so. He always hoped the situation would resolve itself, and every time that hadn’t been the case, he felt the guilt of...

He didn’t know what it was of.

Irresponsibility? Cowardice? Cruelty?

Sam didn’t enjoy suffering, but now, faced with the severity of the suffering he was about to cause, he almost wished he did.

He returned the kiss, and some small part of him yearned for more, as though he’d been given something he was previously denied.

Felix pulled away, but before there could be a second kiss, Sam spoke up.

“Wait.”

To his credit, Felix did.

“I- I can’t. I’m sorry,” Sam said. Without having ever discussed it, he had no idea what Mason thought of him dating other people, and didn’t want to take any chances.

The hurt in Felix’s expression was plain to see.

As much as it pained Sam, he continued, “I’m already dating someone.”

Just like that, the hurt morphed into something else altogether. Incredulity, or jealousy, or some mixture of both.

“What the— No, you’re not. You’re— Who!?”

Sam bit his lip. “I’m not sure I should say,” he admitted, wondering if Megan and Felix’s friendship would survive the situation.

“Right, because you’re not fucking seeing anyone!” Felix snarled as his anger filled the tent. “Don’t lie to me, Sammy, I’ve asked you if you’re dating any chicks and you’ve always said no—”

“It’s Mason.”

All at once, Felix froze, and Sam could see it in his eyes, the way his mind sped through memories of the past few months, piecing everything together: Why Sam wasn’t as available as he’d once been, why he hung out with Mason even more than he used to. In the span of mere seconds, it all fell into place.

Felix’s eyes turned cold. “ _Son of a bitch_.”

He whirled around and nearly ripped open the tent flap, storming out without another word. Sam’s heartbeat was loud in his ears, but after a moment of paralysis, he scrambled to his feet and left the tent.

“Felix, wait!” he called, but Felix kept on walking. “What are you going to do!?”

Felix didn’t answer.


	20. Take A Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 2, Episode 11](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/42115988).

Felix leaned forward, and in the split-second before their lips touched, Sam saw it all.

Felix would kiss him and pass it off as a well-intentioned attempt at expanding his acting abilities. It would become nothing but another rehearsal. The moment would pass and they’d be right back where they began, stuck in a perpetual cycle of pretending that the _thing_ between them didn’t exist, and that?

That was something Sam didn’t want.

He pulled away and Felix very nearly fell into his lap.

“Wh—!? _Sammy!”_

“Were you going to kiss me?”

Felix stared at him. “Well... Yeah?”

“For practice?”

Felix nodded.

Sam shook his head. “I don’t... If you’re going to kiss me, I don’t want it to be practice. I want it to be because you want to.”

“...What?”

A sudden wave of annoyance surged up in Sam and he crossed his arms. “You’re not subtle,” he said, even as part of his mind cried out for him to stop.

Though he’d been operating under the belief that leaving certain things unspoken was for the best, he now realized his patience had its limits. By addressing the ambiguity in their relationship, Sam risked chasing Felix away, but that was evidently a risk he’d become willing to take.

Felix’s eyes were wide and an uneasy smile played on his lips. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about this. All of this,” Sam said, arms still crossed. “It’s been months. What do you want from me?”

“What would I want from you?” Felix asked, crossing his arms as well.

Sam barely suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking. We’re already friends. You’re my best friend. What more do you want?”

Felix blinked.

“Friends with benefits? Dating? Or something else?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Felix objected, hands raised. “What the fuck, Sammy, where’s all this coming from?”

“From you,” Sam replied.

“ _Me?_ What did _I_ do?”

Sam stared at him.

Felix massaged his temples. “Okay, look,” he said. “If I decide I wanna kiss you, that’s my business, y’know? It doesn’t fucking matter why. _You’re_ the one sitting there telling me you’re some kind of megavirgin. The hell am I supposed to do?”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Sam said, then uncrossed his arms to count off on his fingers. “The touching, the cuddling, the roses, th—”

“Sam.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up. Just... Shut up.”

They both fell silent.

Felix seemed to fold in on himself, brow furrowing as he pinched the bridge of his nose, frustration evident. Sam watched him, stomach twisted in knots. Had he ruined everything? Had his impatience cost him all they’d worked towards over the past year?

Sam generally didn’t consider himself to be a bad decision-maker—when he made them, at least—but as he waited for Felix to say something, he wondered whether he might be forced to reevaluate that self-perception.

“Sammy...”

“.....”

“Why’d you have to... Fucking... Fuck everything up!?”

Sam frowned.

“You’re always making things so goddamn _difficult_ ,” Felix hissed, finally meeting Sam’s eyes.

Sam would’ve preferred that he hadn’t.

“Just! You keep doing it and it _pisses me off_ ,” Felix went on. “I’m here, offering to do you a favor, and you—”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. “What?” he snapped.

“A favor,” Sam said. “You could do it because you want to.”

They stared at each other.

“Fuck it.”

Felix lunged forward, bringing their lips together, and Sam let out a small noise that was lost between their mouths. It was all he could do to keep up with the movement of Felix’s lips on his, the sensation of shared air.

There was a knock at the door, but Sam’s answer died in his throat as Felix shoved him backwards.

“Yeah?” Felix called out in his stead, smoothly moving to straddle him.

“Are you hungry? There’s snacks.”

Felix gave Sam a pointed look.

“Th- Thanks for telling us,” Sam managed to reply.

Evidently satisfied, Felix kissed him again, tonguing and sucking at his lips, with an occasional nip here and there.

For a while, that was all he did.

The first touch of his palm against Sam’s bare torso prompted a gasp, and Felix seized the opportunity for what it was. He plundered his way into Sam’s mouth and swallowed every last one of his noises, hands growing bolder. They ran over Sam’s front, scratching and squeezing, and after a moment’s hesitation, Sam decided to retaliate.

He moved his hands back and forth along Felix’s sides, then slowly inched his fingers under the edge of his shirt. The moment they brushed against skin, Felix gave a small start, then proceeded to somehow kiss Sam even more thoroughly, leaving him feeling as if he was being consumed from the inside out.

Encouraged, Sam slid both of his hands under Felix’s shirt, only for Felix to brusquely take them in his own and pin them to the bed. A low rumble came from somewhere within him, a sound much deeper than Sam had ever thought him capable of making, and it was that sense of surprise which brought the situation back into perspective.

“Mm, Felix, wait—”

Felix pulled back and snarled, “ _What?”_

Sam licked his lips. Now that he had an opening to speak, he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to say. “I... What is this? What... What are we?”

Felix closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hung his head. “Sam... Is this _really_ the time to talk about that?”

“When else?”

Felix let out a pitiful groan and slumped onto him. “ _So fucking difficult_ ,” he muttered.

A few seconds passed.

Sam pulled a hand from Felix’s loosened grip and reached up to pat his back.

“...Are you _consoling_ me?”

“You seem like you need it.”

Felix let out a choked laugh and rubbed his face against Sam’s chest, but otherwise gave no answer. Sam settled his hand fully on Felix’s back and began rubbing circles into it.

Minutes ticked by and Sam continued to soothe him.

The time to talk would come eventually.


	21. Unexpected Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Pilot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/40326458).

On a day when Sam’s anxiety over choosing an elective was particularly high, he opted for some exploration to take his mind off the matter.

That was how he found himself traversing the town’s few roads, mentally assessing what he saw.

Though small, the town appeared to contain most structures a community could need, along with a few it didn’t— namely, various stores specializing in different products and services, many of which he imagined were useful, if not altogether crucial. The large supermarket probably contained all items necessary for basic survival, in any case.

He decided to test that theory.

Minutes later, he was in the supermarket, and a quick look around told him he was correct. The aisles were well-stocked and—as far as a basic survival went—provided just about everything he could think to look for.

Unfortunately, once his initial observation was done with, there was nothing left to keep his mind from wandering, and the first place it went was down the elective rabbit hole.

There was only one solution.

After a bit of internal debate, he decided to go back to the street lined with smaller stores. Looking at their exteriors was hardly informative, so he decided to conduct a more thorough investigation and parked his car in front of one. A bell above the door announced his entrance.

At a glance, the store seemed to be owned by one of the town’s families. Every other shelf had a sign advertising products’ local origins, and judging by their handwritten nature, the storeowners proudly embraced a rustic aesthetic. However, aside from those touches, nothing set the store apart from its urban counterparts, and so the message was clear: Rustic, but not too rustic.

“Do you want an invitation? I know we don’t exactly have people lining up outside, but you’re kinda blocking the door, man.”

Sam gave a start, then honed in on the voice’s source, a cashier sitting behind the counter.

“I apologize,” Sam said as he stepped farther into the store. “That wasn’t my intention.”

The cashier raised an eyebrow and sat up a little straighter. “Uh-huh. So what are you? New in town? Just passing through?”

The surprise Sam felt was brief; it only made sense that he’d stand out in a town small enough for everyone to be aware of each other’s presence.

“I’m new in town,” he replied.

“Ooh...” The cashier stood up and leaned on the counter. “Still in high school?”

Sam nodded.

“Senior?”

“In a few weeks.”

The cashier grinned. “Then I guess we’ll be seeing a whole lot more of each other,” he said.

Sam tilted his head and asked, “You’ll be a senior too?”

“Yeah, but c’mere. It’s weird talking to you from across the store.”

Sam walked up to the counter and stood in place as the cashier’s eyes ran over him.

“What’s your name?” the cashier asked.

“Sam.”

“Hmm. I’m Felix.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sam said, extending a hand towards Felix.

There was a pause, then Felix chuckled and shook his hand. “You’re kind of a strange one, aren’t you?”

“Am I?”

“Yeah.”

Sam frowned.

“What, you don’t think so?” Felix asked.

“I don’t know. What counts as ‘strange’?”

Felix shrugged. “Call it a gut feeling,” he said, then narrowed his eyes. “What classes are y—? Actually, no, don’t tell me. I’m good at reading people.”

Sam waited as Felix scrutinized him again, apparently trying to determine his academic leanings from a purely visual examination. As a seasoned people-watcher, Sam was having a difficult time believing it could be done. However good at reading people Felix claimed to be, the likelihood that he’d be able to guess Sam was currently in the middle of an existential crisis over what elective to take was very, _very_ low.

“Usually,” Felix started, “I’d think you’re a sports type. You’ve got the build for it. Got some of the... Social aptitude too, I guess.”

Sam squinted.

“But there’s something off about you, just enough to toss that out,” Felix went on. He crossed his arms and leaned back. “Though I’m only going by the shitty options we’ve got here. If you went to some fancy school before, I bet you took whatever specialized classes you wanted.”

“I’ve never had to choose an elective before,” Sam said.

“Oh? Interesting... Wait, have you picked one yet?”

“No. That’s actually why I’m here.”

Felix raised an eyebrow.

Sam began explaining his situation, detailing all the assessments he’d made and all the conclusions he’d reached. He told Felix that none of the classes especially called to him, and how challenging making such an impactful choice was.

“Let me get this straight,” Felix said as Sam finished recounting his dilemma. “You have to pick which ridiculously easy class you wanna waste an hour of each day in, and you had such a crisis over it that you drove around town and ended up here?”

“Yes.”

Felix stared at him, then forced out the remnants of a laugh. “Well, then,” he said with a shake of his head, teeth showing. “Wanna know what I think?”

 

* * *

 

Sam’s first day as a senior saw him fraught with nerves.

He’d known what listening to Felix would mean, what the result of indicating a preference for drama would be, yet he still felt like kicking himself upon seeing it on his schedule.

At the time, Felix’s logic seemed sensible. In several aspects, it matched Sam’s own, and so he’d followed it in lieu of any other advice. The fact that doing so had meant he’d know one of his future peers was an added bonus, but now, faced with the reality of his decision, it was hardly a comfort.

He spent his first class agonizing over the issue at random intervals, which didn’t bode well for the rest of the day. To his chagrin, every attempt to refocus his attention failed, and he started his second class in much the same manner.

At least until he spotted Felix across the room.

As if on cue, Felix threw a smirk his way and Sam felt oddly reassured.

.....

Maybe the coming year wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	22. All's Well That Ends Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternate timeline for [_In The Spotlight's_ Season 2, Episode 19](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013/chapters/42537110).
> 
> Warning: Murder, probably.

“Yeah, nothing too terrible though. Brownies were involved.”

“Brownies?” Sam asked.

Felix started pulling off Megan’s dress and answered, “Yep. Not a pretty story.”

Sam watched as the dress came away, revealing the bra and panties Felix wore, and suddenly found that he didn’t really care about the rest of the story.

At a glance, the bra and panties were a set, but a closer look served to highlight their differences. The colors were ever so slightly mismatched, the materials didn’t have quite the same sheen, and the decorative patterning on one didn’t complement the other. As far as Sam was concerned, the discrepancy didn’t take away from the imagery.

“I did wonder,” he spoke up, “how you gave the impression of breasts.”

“Hm? Oh, these?” Felix tugged down both bra cups a bit, revealing some manner of rounded fabric within. “Just some toys from when I was a kid. Do you think the people who made them knew they’d work as boobs?” he asked with a laugh, then pointed out the one on his left. “This one was my sister’s.”

“It was?”

“Mhmm. She got it for her birthday and I really liked it, but instead of just stealing it, I asked my mom to get me one too. _Then_ I stole it.”

“Why did you like it so much?”

Felix shrugged and released his bra, covering up the plushies again. “I dunno. Kids are like that, I guess. Didn’t you ever see someone get something you wanted and wish you’d gotten it instead?”

Sam thought about it. “In sixth grade, there was a girl who brought in _Sailor Moon_ pins. I heard her say she’d give some to her friends, and I thought I could try asking her. We weren’t friends, but then, nobody is at first,” he said.

“Yeah?” Felix prompted as he toed off his heels and carried them to the closet.

“She said no but still let me look at the ones she had left. By the end of the day they were all gone, and by the end of the year she had different friends.”

“Aww, that sucks,” Felix said, turning back around with a knife in hand.

Sam blinked.

Felix let out a loud huff. “So this is awkward,” he said, tone almost apologetic. “I never figured I’d be doing it so soon, but I’ve been thinking about it for weeks and... I really think I have to. I think this is it.”

Sam tilted his head. “You think _what_ is it?”

“This. Us. You.”

“I... I don’t understand.”

“Sammy... I’m gonna kill you.”

That didn’t make sense. Metaphorically? Sam would be inclined to think it was some sort of sex euphemism if not for the literal knife currently in Felix’s grip. On the other hand, he could take it at face value and assume Felix did actually mean to murder him. But, again, that didn’t make sense.

“You look a little confused there, Sammy,” Felix said, brushing his wig’s hair behind his shoulders. “I’d have liked to take a shower before all this, but I don’t wanna drag it out. I’m gonna need every single second from now until morning.”

“...For what?”

“I told you, I’m gonna kill you.”

At Sam’s look, Felix let out a disbelieving snort.

“Well, I _did_ say I needed you,” he reminded, deftly twirling the knife. “And if you know me at all, you know that needing anyone is a no-go. It leaves me in a tight spot, so I think the choice is pretty obvious: I have to get rid of you.”

Felix couldn’t be serious.

Could he?

“I’ll admit, it wasn’t my first choice,” Felix shrugged, “but it wouldn’t exactly be my first time either. _That_ wasn’t on purpose, but you know how these things just work out sometimes.”

Sam was frozen in place. Distantly, he thought about running, but it seemed like a highly theoretical possibility. The very situation he was in seemed theoretical too, as if he weren’t the one vividly experiencing it right then.

Felix went on, pacing around the room like he did in class, as if this was just another lecture to him. “Yeah, it sucks, and sure, I’m probably gonna cry like a bitch as I get it out of my system, but you know what? I’d rather do this now than let you stick around and ruin any chances I’ve got of living the way I want to,” he said.

“But... Why?” Sam couldn’t help asking. “How would I stop you from that?”

Felix shrugged and answered, “I dunno.”

Sam watched him head back to his closet and start rummaging around. Logically, it was the perfect opportunity to either make an escape or incapacitate him— not that Sam had any real idea of how to do the latter. He supposed a good punch to the back of the head might do the trick, but that also seemed like the kind of thing likely to go terribly if not executed to perfection.

Truth be told, Sam knew most people would tell him that didn’t matter anymore. Felix had threatened his life, so why should Sam hold back? Why should he feel even the slightest bit of remorse if his attempt at incapacitation went a little overboard? Felix deserved it.

And yet, despite all that, Sam couldn’t bring himself to do it. Reworking his mental image of Felix—reworking his _feelings_ —was much easier said than done. It was much too soon to say for sure, but he didn’t think he’d ever be able to.

He was left with the sole option of escape, and after a few seconds of focusing on his frenzied heartbeat, he took a deep breath and gathered up the energy to move his legs.

“Oh, no, you don’t!”

Sam had barely started down the stairs when a sudden pain bloomed from his hip and he lost his footing. He scrabbled at the bannister but it was no use, and before he knew it, he was tumbling down, crashing to a stop at the foot of the stairs.

Dizzy and disoriented, he tried to sit up, and then his hip was on _fire_.

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy... Why did you have to make this so difficult? Not just for me, but for you. I really wanted to make it as painless as possible for both of us,” Felix’s voice faded in and out of his ears. “This could’ve been so much easier, y’know.”

It was impossible for Sam to grunt out a reply through his pained gasps, nor think of one at all. The majority of his mind had stopped working entirely, replaced only by the instinct to get away, get help, _survive_. The ability to hold a conversation had no place in his new mental layout, and it was all he could do just to process the meaning of Felix’s words.

“I’m not stupid enough to think you’ll believe me, but seeing you like this hurts. It really does! Like I said, I need you, and that means I care about you. A lot,” Felix murmured, squatting down at Sam’s side, eyeing his slumped position with a frown.

Sam hadn’t actually gotten a good look at his injury, as it hurt to stay upright, let alone twist around to look at himself. Still, the absence of the knife from Felix’s hand was conspicuous enough to stand out, and as jumbled as Sam’s mental faculties were, it seemed reasonable to assume that he currently had that knife buried somewhere in his hip.

“So are we gonna do this down here?” Felix asked. He whipped his head around the living room. “Though I guess it’ll be easier to clean the floor...”

“Wh- Why are you doing this?” Sam managed to get out.

Felix turned back to him and raised an eyebrow. “I told you, Sammy. I’m no good for you, and you’re no good for me. You’d just get in my way.”

“In y- your way”—another burst of pain, a grunt—“of what? What way...?”

Felix sighed. “It’s hard to explain,” he said, pushing himself up. “Basically, I’ve got certain goals in life, and reaching them is gonna be so much harder if I don’t have my own best interests in mind.”

He grabbed one of Sam’s hands and started pulling him along to the center of the room. Sam’s attempt to struggle free was cut short by the sheer intensity of the pain that followed, so he remained curled up and compliant as Felix dragged him along the floor. They finally came to a stop and Felix dropped his hand.

“Think about it,” Felix said, starting to push away nearby furniture. “If I’m spending half my time worried about you, how am I gonna get anything done in L. A.? Can’t go to every audition because I’ll have to come home to you, can’t spend all night mingling and making connections. And when I get cast? Long hours filming, interviews, all sorts of shit. That’s not even getting into the other stuff I wanna do either.”

Having cleared his makeshift work area, Felix surveyed the room and tsked. “No, I’d never make it with you around,” he concluded.

“Y- You could just break up with me,” Sam reminded.

“Yeah, that’s the funny thing,” Felix said, meeting Sam’s eyes. “I thought about it. Like I said, this wasn’t my first choice. Obviously it wasn’t.”

“Then...?”

“It wouldn’t work.”

Sam made a questioning noise.

Felix crossed his arms. “You’re not about to run away any time soon, are you?” he asked. “I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know, just sit tight.” He turned away and took a single step before turning back around and saying, “Oh! But first...”

He walked right up to Sam and crouched down, reaching for him. Trying to blink away the blurriness clouding his vision, Sam watched Felix’s hands, flinching when one got too close. Fortunately—or perhaps not, he wasn’t sure what counted as such in his current circumstances—all Felix did was confiscate his phone.

“Can’t have you making any calls,” he said, then stood and made his way back up the stairs.

Sam lay there in near silence. He wondered whether making a run for it was worth it anymore. More than likely, he wouldn’t get very far, and without a phone, who knew when he’d find help? Felix did have neighbors, but there was no guarantee they were home or awake. And if they were, that still left the problem of reaching them.

But even if he didn’t make it...

“Everyone knows I came here,” he said as Felix reappeared at the top of the stairs.

“Hm?”

“Everyone saw us. My parents, Megan and Mason, everyone else. They saw us leave together.”

Felix began making his way down the stairs, with what seemed to be all his bedding dragging along behind him. “Yeah,” he agreed. “That’s kind of annoying, but nothing I can’t deal with. It’s not like they can prove anything.”

“Prove...?”

“That I did anything to you,” Felix said. “Anything _bad_ , at least. All they’ll know is you came back to my house, we had some sort of fight, you left all pissed off, and then you never came back. Sure, it’s not the most believable story, not if you really, _really_ suspect me, but who would?”

Felix briskly made his way over to Sam and started setting down his sheets and blankets, spreading them out in the newly cleared space. As he worked, he kept talking.

“If I get questioned, I’ll put on a brave face, pretend I don’t care. Depending on who’s doing the questioning, I might even fess up eventually. You know, something like... ‘Okay, okay! I really liked him, maybe as more than friends, and when he came over, I told him so. But he just got so mad! And then... Then he said he never wanted to see me again and got in his car and _left!’”_ Felix finished, a very believable crack in his voice.

Sam stared.

“And there you have it, case closed,” Felix said, loudly swiping his hands against each other. “That’ll be my big secret, the final frontier for any investigator. Once you get a guy to confess his big gay crush on his best friend, there’s not really anything else you can get from him.”

“That... But... People already know,” Sam said, unsure if it was blood loss that was further slowing his mind. Maybe all his objections had obvious answers. Even so, he reiterated, “My parents know about us. They know I wouldn’t react like that.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“...What?”

“You nearly snapped my fucking head off that one time, remember?” Felix asked, quirking an eyebrow. “If I’m being honest, that’s what made me realize I needed you. Yeah, I missed you, but that was more of a side effect.”

“What do you m—?”

Sam cut himself off as Felix grabbed hold of him and started pulling again, this time dragging him onto the bedding. The process wasn’t nearly as painful as before, and Sam had the distinct feeling that he was going numb. That was bad. Probably.

“What do you mean?” he asked again, once he was completely atop the sheets and Felix stopped pulling.

“What I _mean_ is that if anyone else yelled at me like that, scared the shit out of me that way, I’d tell them to fuck right off. That’s what I mean. I wouldn’t spend the next two days _crying_ over them, and I _sure as hell_ wouldn’t tell them I _**needed them**_ _!”_

Sam slowly blinked up at Felix’s reddened face and heaving chest. In a sense, it was the kind of thing Sam had been expecting to see that night. If only Felix’s frenzied state was brought about by pleasure, not... Whatever it was he was feeling.

“Felix...”

“ _What_.”

“I... I’m sorry if I... I don’t know... I’m sorry if this is my fault.”

Felix turned his face away and let out a wet-sounding laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Your fault,” he muttered. “Like I’m not the dumbass who forgot his own rules.”

He leaned over and yanked out the knife. Sam barely felt it.

“You never...answered my...question...”

Felix squinted at him.

“...why couldn’t we...just break up...”

Felix’s face relaxed, a slight sadness overtaking his features. “Oh, Sammy. Haven’t you figured it out?”

Sam struggled to keep his eyes open as Felix positioned the knife over his heart.

“I’d never stop trying to get you back.”

He pushed the knife in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da!
> 
> Like _In The Spotlight_ before it, _Just A Dream_ has its own [author's commentary](https://panpinecone.dreamwidth.org/2464.html). It details some of my thoughts on each timeline and gives a bit of insight into the process of selecting them. Check it out if that's the kind of thing that interests you!
> 
> Thank you all for reading along. Though much shorter than my previous foray into the _Spotlight_ 'verse, this was no less of a journey, and knowing that I wasn't the only one having fun made it all the better. I hope you enjoyed yourselves just as much as I did.


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